


Fic: Chain of events

by Ceindreadh



Category: Hercules: The Legendary Journeys
Genre: Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-21
Packaged: 2017-12-20 02:49:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/882059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceindreadh/pseuds/Ceindreadh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iolaus tries to rescue some captives but ends up joining their number</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Captured

**Author's Note:**

> Note - the warning is for threats, which may or may not be carried out.
> 
>  
> 
> Set post season 6 HTLJ, but ignoring anything that may have happened in subsequent Xena episodes.

Title – Chain of events  
Fandom: Hercules: The legendary journeys  
Author: Ceindreadh  
Genre: Drama, Hurt/comfort  
Characters/Pairing: Hercules/Iolaus  
Rating: M  
Summary: Iolaus tries to rescue some captives but ends up joining their number  
Notes: Set post season 6 HTLJ, but ignoring anything that may have happened in subsequent Xena episodes.  
Word count: ~ 2,800 /23,000  
 **Warnings: Threat of non-con, a threat which may or may not be carried out**  
Disclaimer. I don’t own the characters, I’m only borrowing them, no copyright infringement is intended.

 

Iolaus was still half dazed from the blow to his head as he was dragged into the clearing. He was forced to his knees, head down, and a pair of well cut boots appeared in his field of vision. A hand grabbed his chin and roughly forced his gaze upwards. "So this is the attacker who managed to take down three of my best men?" There was a note of disbelief in the man’s voice.

"If those were your best men," said Iolaus, "You might want to rethink your recruitment policy!" The man laughed harshly before backhanding Iolaus and sending him sprawling in the dirt. Head spinning, Iolaus could hear a discussion going on above him even as he worked away at the ropes binding his hands behind him.

"Was he alone? How many did we lose?" This from the man who had hit him and who appeared to be the leader of the gang of bandits that Iolaus had encountered while on his way to Corinth to meet up with Hercules.

\------------------

They’d parted company barely a week earlier. Iphicles had sent a messenger to Hercules requesting his presence in Corinth.

“A justice symposium?” said Iolaus, ducking under Hercules’s arm to read the message he was holding. “What in Tartarus is a justice symposium?”

Hercules rolled up the scroll and tucked it in his belt. “Iphicles is gathering together representatives from all the neighboring kingdoms. He wants to try and agree a consistent legal system under all the different rulers.”

“You mean he wants his laws applied,” said Iolaus. “And he wants you to knock a few heads together until they agree with him.”

“Iphicles is open to reasonable ideas and suggestions. He just wants me there as a symbol of honesty and fairness. I really can’t refuse.”

“Yes you can,” said Iolaus. “Just write on the scroll ‘gone fishing’ and send it back with the messenger. Better yet, give him a couple of denarii and have him tell Iphicles he couldn’t find us.”

“I can’t let Iphicles down,” said Hercules, “I was the one who suggested a symposium in the first place. Besides, it’ll only be for a few weeks.”

“Well you can go and listen to a bunch of people argue boring legal stuff for a couple of weeks,” said Iolaus, grabbing his bag. “I’ll take the scenic route, get in a bit of fishing or hunting, and I’ll meet you in Corinth afterwards.”

Hercules knew there was no arguing with Iolaus, but he tried one last time just before they parted company later that day. “You know you’d be more than welcome,” he said, as he wrapped his arms around Iolaus for a final hug.

“I know,” said Iolaus, head resting against Hercules’s chest. “But I’ll meet you in Corinth in say two weeks time and if the symposium isn’t finished by then I’ll break down the doors and rescue you.” He felt Hercules laugh, and grinned up at him. “Go on, I’ll be fine.” Iolaus could feel Hercules’s hand on the small of his back, his thumb tracing a circle at the base of his spine.

“If you insist.” Hercules gave Iolaus one final kiss before pulling away reluctantly. “Two weeks from today. Try and stay out of trouble until then!”

 

But trouble, as always, had had a way of finding him, thought Iolaus. He’d spent a few days fishing and hunting as planned, some days more successfully than others. But somehow it hadn’t been as enjoyable as he had hoped, and eventually he had decided to make his way to Corinth earlier than planned.

A few days later Iolaus had come across signs of travel on the trail ahead of him. The tracks told him of a large number of people, horses and carts, a surprisingly large group Iolaus had thought for such an out of the way route. Curious, he had decided to follow the tracks at least for a while. It had taken him half a day to catch up with the group, and he had scouted around that night to see what they were up to. He’d thought maybe a gang of bandits or a warlord on the move, but to his shock, Iolaus had found a number of prisoners with them, who he soon discovered had been taken with the intent of selling them to slavers at the first opportunity.

While slavery had long since been outlawed in Corinth, Iolaus knew that some of the neighbouring provinces weren't so forward thinking.

Knowing that any attempt to seek reinforcements could result in the gang escaping, Iolaus had settled for plan B, a stealth attack to free the prisoners and *then* return with reinforcements. Unfortunately the plan hadn't worked as well as expected. The guards had discovered him before he'd managed to free more than half the captives and he'd been forced to fight in order to allow at least some of their number a chance to escape.

\---------------------

"About a dozen were freed, Belchor. But we recaptured some. There can't be more than five or six who got away". There was a growl of anger from Belchor. He barked out an order and Iolaus was hauled to his feet in front of him. "Do you have any idea how much money you have cost me, little man?"

Iolaus shrugged "Can't you count that high?" He braced himself for a blow but it didn't come. Instead Belchor moved around him, eyeing him up and down as if he was a prize piece of meat. A bad feeling started to grow in Iolaus as Belchor squeezed his bound arms. Iolaus flinched involuntarily as Belchor pulled down on his vest, trapping his arms further and exposing him completely. He didn’t like the look in Belchor’s eyes as the man poked and prodded at his bare skin. Iolaus bit down on his impulse to resist knowing that there was a time and a place for escape attempts, and hands bound behind him, surrounded by close to a dozen heavily armed men was not going to be the best time.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Belchor stepped away and addressed his second in command. "You say he took down Agenor and Cleto?" he asked.

"Yes," the man replied. "And broke Dion's arm."

"Fighters fetch a better price than laborers," said Belchor. He turned back to Iolaus, putting a hand on his chin to tilt his head up, “And if there’s nobody looking for fighters…well, I can think of a few buyers catering for ‘other’ tastes that might welcome him.” He let go of Iolaus and turned back to his second. “Break camp immediately,” he ordered. “We move out at first light. We’re already days behind schedule. As for this one, chain him with the others, and keep an eye on him, I have a feeling he’ll be trouble.”

Iolaus struggled as he was grabbed from behind, but to no avail. The bandits had clearly learned from their comrades experiences and there were enough of them to make any attempt at resistance useless. Not that that stopped Iolaus from trying, but soon enough he was shackled hand and foot and thrown into the makeshift pen with the rest of the captives.

\-------------------------

The next few days passed painfully slow. By day, Iolaus kept his eyes and ears open, listening in on whatever of his captors conversations that he could, and gathering as much information as possible from his fellow captives. He soon found out that Belchor was leading his party to a pre-arranged meeting at a port a few weeks travel away. The journey was taking so long because Belchor – knowing the local feeling about slave trading – had planned the route so as to avoid any major centers of population, instead sending his scouts on periodic journeys to source provisions for himself and his ‘merchandise’.

By night, Iolaus plotted his escape. That is, not just his own escape, but that of every captive. If it had been just himself, it would have been easy. He’d already managed to acquire a knife to use as a lock pick. Cleto, one of the guards he’d beaten on that first night, had been assigned guard duty as a punishment and Iolaus had deliberately provoked the man into attacking him. A few punches later, Iolaus was flat on the ground, carefully concealing the knife he’d lifted from Cleto’s belt. Not that the knife had proven to be much use as a weapon. The edge was so dull it would barely have cut butter, and Iolaus had no way to sharpen it unobserved. But the metal was hard and there was enough of a point on the tip for Iolaus to use it to open his shackles. He’d carefully closed them again, as he thought about his options. Given enough time, Iolaus was sure that he’d be able to free himself and all the others from their chains, but that wasn’t enough. On his own, he could easily cover enough ground and knew enough hunters’ tricks to hide himself from any pursuit. But with a few dozen people, men and women, he needed a proper plan to save them all.

The only thing Iolaus could think of was to delay the bandits as much as possible. To that end, at night, he used the knife to free himself and then snuck out of the holding pen to cause as much damage as he could get away with.

The first night, Iolaus made his way to where the horses were tethered, loosening a few ropes just enough so that several of Belchor’s men spent half the hours of darkness trying to catch them. Another night, Iolaus broke into the wagon holding the food stores, bringing extra provisions back to the prisoner’s pen, while carefully making it look like wild animals had been responsible. He loosened shoes on the horses, caused tents to collapse, and in general made the camp as unpleasant as possible a place to be.

\----------------------

 

Iolaus waited for the guard on duty to make his usual round of the pen. Once he was out of sight, Iolaus did his usual trick with the knife and quickly removed his chains.  
“Be careful, Iolaus,” said Keti, one of the captives, as she helped him arrange the threadbare blankets, into a shape that almost looked like a sleeping prisoner.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” promised Iolaus. “You just sleep and if anybody comes looking, you don’t know a thing about it.” Tonight was going to be his most ambitious act of sabotage so far. Most of the things Iolaus had done had caused delays of but a few hours at most. Tonight he planned to weaken the axle on the stores wagon so that it would break under the weight as they travelled. Fixing it would lose them a day’s travel at least, maybe more if they hadn’t the stores to replace it. Iolaus hoped it would work; he was starting to run out of ideas to slow down the party. He knew that if Belchor made it to the port, there would be plenty of buyers there who wouldn’t care about the provenance of their slaves, wouldn’t care that they’d been free people only weeks earlier. Iolaus swore to himself that he wouldn’t let that happen. Just as soon as he could find a way to get everybody out, he’d make his move.

\--------------------

It took longer than Iolaus expected to weaken the axle properly. Too much damage and it would be immediately obvious and easily repairable, too little damage and the wagon would still be drivable. But now it was done and with luck he had bought them a little more time.

Keeping a lookout for the guard, Iolaus made his way back to the other captives. He waited for the moon to go behind a cloud before crawling back to his blanket. Groping around for his discarded chains, he heard a noise behind him and turned quickly.

“Looking for these?” said Belchor, holding the chains up. Behind him were several of his men, one of them holding Keti, a knife to her throat.

“Ah,” said Iolaus, “You know I *knew* they were somewhere around. I’ve just spent ages looking for them.”

“I think it’s time that you and I had a chat,” said Belchor. “Bring him,” he said to his men before throwing the chains on the ground and walking off.

 

\-----------------------  
“So, Iolaus,” said Belchor. “What am I going to do with you?” He walked around Iolaus who was standing before him, wrists chained to a tree branch over his head.

“You could just let me go,” said Iolaus, twisting in the chains so as to keep Belchor where he could see him. He jumped involuntarily as he felt Belchor’s hand running down his spine.

“Unfortunately for you, that’s not an option.” Belchor’s hand moved further down Iolaus’s back. “What is an option though. My men, sometimes as one of the ‘perks’ of the job, get to play with the merchandise before it’s sold. They’re not always that gentle though.” His hand moved downwards again and clasped Iolaus on the ass. “Sometimes when they’re finished having fun, well they’re not worth selling any more. And so far on this trip, they haven’t had a lot of fun. What do you think Iolaus?” Belchor grabbed Iolaus by the chin and forced his head up roughly. “Do you think that my men deserve a little perk after all you’ve put them through?”

Iolaus kept his voice steady and forced a smile on his face as he replied, “Sure…if you want your ‘merchandise’ damaged. But hey, I’m sure you can swallow the loss of what I’d make you.”

“Oh you misunderstand, Iolaus,” said Belchor, a smile on his face that made Iolaus’s blood run cold. “I have no intention of reducing *your* value. On the other hand, there are plenty of others to choose from. Your friend Keti for instance, the one who tried to pretend you were asleep under the blanket when I went looking for you tonight. I think my men would be most pleased to play with her.”

Iolaus couldn’t help himself as he lunged at Belchor. “Any of your men lay a hand on her and I’ll..!”

Belchor laughed as he stepped back, “Her continued well being, in fact that of all of my stock, is in your hands. You cause any more trouble and their blood will be on your hands. Behave yourself, do as you are told or they’ll be the ones to face the consequences.”

Iolaus struggled furiously against the chains, but to no avail. Finally he slumped against his bonds, only looking up when Belchor stepped forward again to ask, “Do we have an agreement?”

“Yes,” said Iolaus through gritted teeth.

“Good,” said Belchor. “I’m glad we understand each other.”

\--------------------------

For the next few days, Iolaus kept to his word.

Belchor may have thought he had an iron-clad deal, but he was clearly taking no chances. By day, Iolaus was kept chained to the stores wagon, in full view, and separated from the other captives. By night, hands chained behind his back, ankles chained close together, he was guarded separately from the others. This guard duty was clearly not popular with Belchor’s men, and more than one had taken their aggravation out on Iolaus in the form of ‘accidental’ pushes and shoves as he walked along. In fairness, thought Iolaus, he had provoked them somewhat, secure in the knowledge that they couldn’t raise a hand to him, and always making sure that Belchor was out of earshot.

Cleto had been the worst, having suffered punishment from Belchor when his knife had been found in Iolaus’s possession. “Belchor docked my pay cause of you, Shorty,” he had said, while aiming a kick at Iolaus’s ribs. “You’re gonna pay for that. And don’t think I can’t mark you where it won’t show.”

Iolaus had managed to roll out of the way of another kick, coming up against a rock behind him. He’d quickly maneuvered himself onto his knees and rested his head against the stone. “Come near me again and I’ll smash my face into this rock. Try explaining *that* to Belchor!” The bluff had worked and Cleto hadn’t dared try to hurt him again.

The other guards had been content to make Iolaus’s life as uncomfortable as possible. His collar and chains were the heaviest of the restraints available. At night, his limbs were bound so tightly he could barely move, and the guards made a point of waking him every few hours “Just to see you haven’t escaped yet.”  
The lack of sleep was starting to wear Iolaus down, but far worse was the effective isolation. Belchor allowed Keti to bring Iolaus his meager rations morning and evening, but there was always a guard in place to ensure no communications beyond a whispered ‘good morning’ or ‘thank you’ between them.

Iolaus thought that things really couldn’t get much worse, and then one day they did.

To be continued 


	2. Chained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iolaus tries to rescue some captives but ends up joining their number.  
> Things go from bad to worse when another slave trader shows up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The warning is for threats, which may or may not be carried out.
> 
> Set post season 6 HTLJ, but ignoring anything that may have happened in subsequent Xena episodes.   
> Many thanks to Tina for all her help with this story.

Disclaimer. I don’t own the characters, I’m only borrowing them, no copyright infringement is intended.

 

The lack of sleep was starting to wear Iolaus down, but far worse was the effective isolation. Belchor allowed Keti to bring Iolaus his meager rations morning and evening, but there was always a guard in place to ensure no communications beyond a whispered ‘good morning’ or ‘thank you’ between them.   
Iolaus thought that things really couldn’t get much worse, and then one day they did. 

[Chapter 2] - Chained  
The sound of hoof beats on their own wouldn’t have attracted Iolaus’s attention as he trudged along behind the wagon. Belchor’s scouts had been sent off on a resupply trip at first light and usually returned within a few hours. But only two men had left and Iolaus could tell by the sound that at least four or five horses were returning and a lot sooner than expected. 

Iolaus risked a glance upwards as the strangers rode by, escorted by Belchor’s scouts. He barely managed a glimpse of two men and a heavily laden pack animal before the store wagon lurched forward again. Iolaus kept glancing back until he saw the strangers ride up to Belchor. From their respective attitudes it appeared that their arrival, while unexpected, was not entirely unwelcome. 

But before Iolaus could watch further, he stumbled on an uneven patch of ground, and was forced to pay attention to his more immediate surroundings. He wasn’t sure if Belchor would consider a sprained ankle a sign of ‘causing trouble’, but Iolaus wasn’t about to risk finding out.

To his surprise, a halt was soon called to their journey and Iolaus could hear orders being given to set up camp. This was unprecedented in Iolaus’s experience, as Belchor tended to drive his people hard and there was easily another three to four hours of daylight that could have been well used.

\--------------   
One good thing about being under constant supervision, thought Iolaus as he shifted uneasily in his chains. It meant that he was kept in the centre of all the activity and could easily listen in on the various conversations Belchor’s people were having. Iolaus soon found out that the new arrivals were old acquaintances of Belchor. That is, one of the men, Eldred, had apparently traveled with him some years earlier before setting out on his own. His travelling companion was unknown to Belchor, but according to Agenor and Cleto’s conversation, he was a wealthy trader looking to strike a fast bargain.

“Eldred says he’s got more money than Midas,” said Cleto as he walked past Iolaus.   
“Pity he doesn’t spend it on bathing,” said Agenor. “Or clothes. Those skins he’s wearing smell like they haven’t been cleaned since they came off their original owner.”   
“No wonder he wants to buy himself a new bedwarmer or two. I bet they don’t last long in his house.” They laughed as they passed out of earshot. 

When Keti brought round the afternoon’s water ration, she managed to whisper that Belchor had ordered them all cleaned up for display purposes “I think he’s planning on making a deal with them,” she whispered fearfully. “Iolaus, what are we going to do?”

“I’ll think of something,” Iolaus promised, but in his heart he knew that he was out of ideas. At this point, he didn’t know whether he’d be better off being traded by Belchor to this new slaver – who might not be quite so security conscious – or being kept by Belchor and being maybe able to take advantage of his known routines. Of course it all depended on how many of Belchor’s captives were likely to be included in the trade. 

With Belchor’s men otherwise occupied in making camp and preparing for a feast to be held that night, there had been limited numbers to guard the prisoners, so Iolaus had been chained to the stores wagon in full view of the camp. This gave him ample opportunity to keep watch on the tent, which had been set up by the new arrivals and where Belchor was apparently talking business.

Iolaus wasn’t close enough to hear exactly what was being said, but there was an occasional burst of laughter to be heard which indicated that discussions weren’t going badly. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the tent flaps were opened and Belchor emerged. 

The smile that appeared on Belchor’s face as he saw he was being observed sent a shiver down Iolaus’s spine. But that was nothing to his reaction when he saw clearly the men who followed him out of the tent. 

The shorter man – although still standing taller than Iolaus – was unfamiliar to him. But the taller man, the trader wearing animal skins, there was something about the way he walked, the look in his eyes as he glanced casually around the camp. “It can’t be,” said Iolaus to himself. “It’s just somebody who looks like him.” He tried to calm himself, tried to still the hope which had soared in his chest. There was no way that Hercules could have found him here.

His heart which had started to beat a little faster with hope soon sank as the men drew closer. Once Iolaus had gotten a better look at the man Belchor had addressed as Kester, Iolaus could see that he had been mistaken. Kester had a long matted beard, clearly the result of several months if not years of growth. Certainly longer than the short time that Iolaus had been separated from Hercules. Kester’s hair was longer too, and much darker. 

But what convinced Iolaus that this was just some horrible coincidence, was the cold appraising look, completely devoid of recognition, which swept over Iolaus as Kester approached.

If Iolaus hadn’t known better, he might have thought that this was the Sovereign, back from the netherworld, no, back from the *dead* and out for vengeance. “Maybe there’s another parallel world out there,” thought Iolaus. “Or it’s some distant relative that just looks like Herc.” It could even have been just random chance, as Iolaus had heard stories about the many Xena lookalikes that she and Hercules had encountered. Hercules had even mentioned a strange dancing teacher he’d met, although he could have been joking as Iolaus found the thought of Hercules dancing just a bit too farfetched. 

It came as almost a relief to Iolaus when Belchor guided the other men past him without pausing. He twisted in his chains enough to see that they were headed for the other captives, presumably to allow the newcomers to examine Belchor’s wares up close. Once they were out of his sight, Iolaus slumped in his chains knowing that time was running out.

\-------------------------  
It was almost an hour later when Belchor walked past Iolaus.   
“Wait,” called Iolaus, moving as far forward as the length of chain attached to his collar would allow. “Belchor, what’s happening?”

Belchor turned, “What’s happening, little man is that I have just made the best deal of my life. Kester is willing to purchase a sizeable portion of my stock. And with what he’s going to pay me, I’ll be able to cover all of my losses so far, and then some!” He started to move away but then turned back, leaning in close to Iolaus as he hissed, “My men may even get their usual ‘perks’ after all.” Belchor took a step back as Iolaus lunged at him, and laughed as he was brought up short by the chain.

“We had a deal!” said Iolaus, wishing his hands weren’t chained behind him so he could reach out and hit Belchor. “You hurt any of your prisoners and I’ll show you just how much trouble I can still cause you!”

“That’s assuming that you’re still my problem when it happens.” Belchor took a step back and started idly cleaning under his nails with his knife.

“You sold me as well?” The words almost stuck in Iolaus’s throat at the thought of being reduced to a mere commodity. 

“Well not yet,” admitted Belchor. “But we’re having a feast tonight to celebrate a successful negotiation. There’s still time to strike another bargain.” He moved quickly, putting his knife to Iolaus’s throat, “And if you even think of causing trouble, just remember that the merchandise is still mine until I see Kester’s gold, so if say, Keti for instance were to get damaged, well I’d just have to replace her with another item from my stock. You play nice tonight and after that, maybe you’ll be somebody else’s problem.” He took the knife away leaving a drop of blood to trickle down Iolaus’s neck.

“Belchor, have you been holding out on me?” Both men jumped slightly and turned to see Kester striding towards them, followed closely behind by Eldred. 

“Whatever you do mean, my friend,” said Belchor, a wide smile on his face as he quickly replaced the knife in his belt.

“You keep all your other wares, a bare chain between them. But this one,” Kester waved his hand towards Iolaus, “With so many chains. Clearly holds such high value that you fear losing him before a price has been agreed. Although at first glance,” he looked Iolaus up and down, “I fail to see what would merit such value.”

“Consider it ‘saving the best for last’,” said Belchor. “This one, however unimpressive he looks, he does have superior fighting skills and I expect a good price for him at the market.” He started to turn away.

“He is not for sale?” asked Kester. “Pity, sometimes I like it when they can fight back.” He shrugged his shoulders, “Maybe I have made enough purchases for one day.” 

“I’m always open to negotiation,” said Belchor. “But if you’re not interested…”

Iolaus looked from Belchor to Kester as they stared each other down, unsure as to which of them he wanted to come out the winner. Bad and all as Belchor was, he at least had kept to his word about not harming his captives. But that could all change after the trading was complete, “especially,” thought Iolaus, “If he doesn’t get rid of me.” But Kester, Iolaus felt a chill go down his spine every time the man looked at him. 

“Enough of this,” said Kester, finally. “I have wine in my tent. We shall feast to celebrate the deal already made, and you can persuade me why this one should be added to it. Yes?”

“Yes,” said Belchor. Kester clapped him on the back nearly knocking him over and then headed for his tent with Eldred following close behind.  
Belchor waited until he was out of sight before calling for Agenor. “Have him cleaned up before tonight.” To Iolaus he said, “And remember what I said, play nice, or you know what’ll happen.” He shoved Iolaus roughly before walking away.

Iolaus stumbled back against the stores wagon, breathing heavily. Tonight was going to be his last chance to do something, and by the gods he was going to figure out a way to take advantage of it.

\-------------------  
Agenor’s idea of ‘cleaning’ had consisted of chaining Iolaus’s collar to a tree beside the nearby river, and throwing a few buckets of water over him. Iolaus had gasped with shock as the cold water hit him, but it had been something of a relief to feel some of the layers of dust and grime wash away. 

“Personally I’d prefer to throw you in, and see how well you swim,” said Agenor as he scooped up another bucket. “But Belchor still thinks he can get that fool Kester to pay something for you, so who am I to argue.” He threw the water in Iolaus’s face. 

Once Agenor had deemed Iolaus clean enough, he picked up a bundle of clothes and threw them at Iolaus’s feet. “Belchor wants you wearing these.” Stepping around behind Iolaus, he grabbed his wrist shackles and pulled them up sharply, making Iolaus wince in pain. “You cause any trouble, and let’s just say I know plenty of ways to hurt you where it won’t show, understand.”   
“I understand,” said Iolaus, through gritted teeth. He felt the shackles removed from his wrists and resisted the impulse to kick back and send Agenor flying into the trees. There would be a time and place for that, but now wasn’t it. 

\-----------------------

Hours later, Iolaus was still waiting for the right time. He’d put on the short tunic and leggings he’d been given, and hadn’t resisted as Agenor had brought him back to the main camp and chained him up again. 

Belchor’s men had been busy in Iolaus’s absence, and had set up a large tripod of tree branches in the centre of the clearing. Iolaus’s wrists had been shackled in front of him and chained to the apex of the tripod. His legs had been tied to stakes in the ground, and he was left there on display for all to see. 

Iolaus shivered in the cool evening air. The garments provided by Belchor were practically threadbare and provided little protection from the breeze. They provided even less protection after Belchor, having shown up to check on the arrangements, carefully ripped open the neckline of the tunic to expose Iolaus’s chest. “There,” he had said, examining his work. “Have to give him a taste of what’s on offer.” He’d noticed Iolaus’s medallion, and before Iolaus could react, had ripped it from around his neck. “Might fetch a few dennarii,” he’d commented before tucking it in his pocket and walking away. 

In truth thought Iolaus, it wasn’t just the cold that was making him shudder. 

\---------------------  
The campfire that had been built up went some way towards alleviating the chill of the evening. Iolaus was forced to watch as Belchor, his guests, and those of his men not on guard duty ate and drank their fill. His stomach growled at the smell of the roast meat that had been served up to them, a meal which was far superior to anything Belchor had fed to his captives the past weeks.

Iolaus let his head fall against his arms and closed his eyes as he tried to focus his mind again. There had to be a way out of this situation, somehow, but the smell of the food, the noise of conversation from Belchor’s men, the restraints on his limbs, it was all making it hard to concentrate. 

“Hey, do not fall asleep, little man! The night is still young!” Kester’s booming voice made Iolaus jerk his head up and he looked over to where Belchor and his guests were seated on the ground. “So Belchor, you have still to convince me that this one is worth bargaining for.” He bit down on a chunk of meat. 

“I would have thought that his attributes were pretty obvious,” said Belchor. “For a man of your particular appetites at least. Or perhaps Eldred misinformed me?” 

There was a silence for a few seconds and Iolaus saw Kester shoot a quick glance at Eldred before turning back to Belchor and laughing loudly, “There are no secrets between friends, are there!” He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and belched loudly. “It is true; he appears to hold a certain attraction. But I do not wish to waste my money on something which may prove worthless for my needs.” With surprising grace for so big a man, Kester pushed himself up from the ground and moved over to Iolaus.

Iolaus felt Kester’s hand on his back. He would have shied away from the contact if the chains had allowed him enough freedom of movement, but all he could do was stand there. It wasn’t just the unexpectedness of the touch; it was more the easy familiarity with which Kester’s hand moved down Iolaus’s spine before resting comfortably in the small of his back as if it had been made for it. Iolaus’s heart started to race as he felt Kester’s thumb trace a lazy circle around the base of his spine. It revived Iolaus’s hope that maybe just maybe, Hercules had managed to do the impossible again and find him. Iolaus bit down his initial reaction and forced himself to remain still.

If he was right, Iolaus knew that both their lives depended on him pretending fear and revulsion towards Kester. The greater likelihood that he was wrong meant that very little pretence was needed.

“Perhaps a trial run would be a good idea,” said Kester. “And then in the morning, if he is still suitable, we can agree a price.” 

Now Belchor too moved over to stand by Iolaus. “Perhaps we should see some coin change hand first. You’ve agreed to pay a substantial sum already and while I’m sure you’re good for it, if you’re not, well I’ve still got my stock and time to make port so I’m not out of pocket either way. But for all I know, you could just want a night of pleasure at my expense. So it’s going to be cash up front for this one.”

“Name your price,” said Kester.

“One hundred denarii.” 

“Are you kidding?” Iolaus couldn’t help but blurt out. Bad enough that he was being sold, but for such a paltry amount. He saw Belchor raise his fist and tensed in expectation of the blow, but to his surprise, Kester grabbed Belchor’s arm before he could strike. 

“That seems a very low price,” said Kester, “It will be lower still if he gets damaged before I have a chance to play with him.” 

“Oh you mistake me,” said Belchor, pulling his hand free. “That’s not his selling price…that’s just the charge for one night.”

Kester threw back his head and laughed. He slapped Iolaus on the ass and then reached for his belt pouch. “Twenty-five denarii.” 

“Oh come on!” said Iolaus. 

“Seventy-five,” said Belchor. “After all, if he doesn’t live up to your expectations, I may have to reduce his price for my next buyer.”

“Forty,” said Kester. “And another amphora of wine from my provisions.”

“Fifty and two amphorae.” 

The two men stared each other down for a few seconds before Kester broke into a smile. “Done!” he said, spitting on his hand and holding it out to Belchor.

Iolaus almost laughed at the look of pain on Belchor’s face as Kester squeezed his hand in a vice like grip, but the smile died on his lips as he watched Kester count out the coins and shout across to Eldred to get the wine from the tent and his own bedroll as well. “You can make camp with Belchor. I don’t want to be disturbed before morning!” 

A chill came over Iolaus as the reality of his predicament hit him. If his instincts about Kester were wrong, then he had effectively become his temporary property for fifty denarii and some wine. Kester could do what he wanted with him and nobody in the camp would raise a hand to stop him. It was a chilling prospect and Iolaus suddenly felt sick to his stomach as the ropes around his ankles were cut from the stakes. He had to fight down the urge to resist as Belchor reached up to unhook the wrist shackles from the overhead chain. 

Iolaus was flexing his shoulders trying to loosen up the muscles which were protesting the sudden change in position when Belchor fastened a length of chain to his collar and jerked it sharply to make sure it was secure.

Belchor held out the length of chain to Kester. “He’s all yours,” he said before turning to look Iolaus in the eye, “I’m sure he won’t cause you any trouble.” Turning back to Kester he added, “Just remember, you break it, you bought it.”

“Perhaps I shall do both!” Kester took the chain in one hand and pulled it roughly, making Iolaus stumble forward. 

The path back to the tent brought them past Belchor’s men. Iolaus could see Agenor nudge Cleto and laugh nastily as he stumbled past them, trying to stay upright. His legs were unsteady after so long tied to the stakes, and that plus the growing level of apprehension that Iolaus was feeling as he was led towards the tent made it difficult for him to move any way quickly. 

Belchor’s implied threat was ringing in Iolaus’s ears as well and he had to force himself to put one foot in front of the other. The entrance to the tent was getting closer, as intimidating as the mouth of a hydra, and Iolaus found his steps getting slower and smaller as he tried to delay the inevitable ordeal. 

The chain attached to his collar grew taut as the gap between Kester and Iolaus widened. Finally Kester appeared to notice what was going on and turned on Iolaus, almost growling at him, “You walk too slowly, morning will be here and our time together will be up before I’m finished with you!” 

Before Iolaus could react, Kester had grabbed him and thrown him over his shoulder. The smell of the animal skins filled his nostrils nearly making him gag. “Until the morning!” Kester called back towards Belchor as he strode towards the tent.

\-------------------------

Once inside the tent, Iolaus was placed on his feet, none too gently. Kester tied the tent flaps closed and then turned back to him. “So little man, where shall we begin?”

There was something in his voice that gave Iolaus pause and he took a step towards Kester, hoping that maybe his suspicions might prove correct, “Herc…” Before he could even complete the name, Kester had backhanded him across the mouth knocking him to the ground. The blow killed any lingering hope Iolaus had had of rescue, as there would have been no reason for Hercules to keep up the act once they were alone. Lying on the floor, head spinning from the blow, Iolaus wasn’t entirely surprised to feel blood on his lip as he touched it gingerly. 

“YOU DO NOT SPEAK UNLESS I GIVE YOU PERMISSION!” bellowed Kester. 

So this was to be it, thought Iolaus numbly, even as Kester grabbed the chain again, pulling him up onto his hands and knees.   
“Move!” Kester was shouting at him now as he jerked the chain, forcing Iolaus to crawl towards the pile of blankets and furs that were clearly intended to serve as a bed. “Faster, or feel the back of my hand again!” 

Iolaus could hardly concentrate with the ringing in his ears from Kester’s booming voice. But there was something that had stuck in his mind, something that Kester had said earlier about not wanting to be disturbed before morning. “That means that nobody will be looking for me until daybreak,” thought Iolaus. A plan started forming in his mind. “Once he’s done with me, he’ll surely fall asleep, and then…” Without realizing it, he’d stopped moving, only to be urged forward again by a resounding slap on his ass. 

“I warned you little man, do not cross me!” 

Iolaus bit back a yelp as Kester grabbed his collar and forced him upright onto his knees. He didn’t dare move a muscle as Kester ripped the tunic apart, the ragged pieces falling to the ground. Iolaus’s remaining clothing soon followed and a shove from Kester sent Iolaus sprawled forward onto the bed. 

Iolaus knew that it would take all of his courage, all of his training to force himself into compliance with Kester’s desires. Any overt resistance could anger the man sufficiently that he would inflict serious damage. Damage enough that Iolaus would be unable to take any action afterwards. His fists clenched around the blanket beneath him and he tried to calm himself enough to call on his training. Behind him Iolaus could hear Kester grunting as he struggled with straps and buckles. 

“You are all mine now, little man!” Iolaus felt a hand on his ankle and suddenly knew that he couldn’t do it. Instinct took over from reason and he kicked out hard enough to free his limb. Pulling his legs up under him, Iolaus took all his weight on his hands and then lashed out with both feet, catching Kester with a blow that – had Iolaus been wearing his boots – would have surely incapacitated the man. But Kester only laughed loudly before declaring, “Such spirit…now *this* is why I wanted you!” 

Before Iolaus could react he felt hands on his ankles pulling them apart and making him collapse flat against the blankets, the chain from his collar digging into his chest. He felt Kester on top of him, one hand grabbing the shackles and stretching Iolaus’s arms out above his head. A knee forced Iolaus’s legs further apart and suddenly he was pinned beneath the other man, the weight of Kester’s body holding him firmly in place. Iolaus tried to struggle but he could barely move. Closing his eyes, he gritted his teeth and tried not to cry out as Kester’s free hand slapped him on the thigh. “Fighting is good, but it will not help you now,” said Kester loudly. “I am going to make you mine!” 

A hand suddenly covered Iolaus’s mouth and he felt Kester’s lips press close to his ear. “On three, I’m going to remove my hand,” he whispered. “And you are going to scream…just like you did when you were bitten by the Strygoia…Iolaus.”

Iolaus’s eyes opened wide in shock but before he could do anything, he heard Kester whisper “Three” and the hand was removed. Without thinking, Iolaus let out a scream that went echoing through the camp. There was a loud sound of hand hitting flesh, but it was Kester’s hand against Kester’s flesh. Iolaus bit down on the scream immediately. In the sudden silence, they could both hear the sounds of cheering and cat calling just outside the tent.

“Yeah, that’s the way to do it!” Cleto’s voice rose above the noise. “You give him one from us!” That was Agenor’s slurred contribution. 

Iolaus felt Kester shift his weight and shout to the men outside, “Hey, did I not say I was *not* to be disturbed until morning?” There was the sound of movement outside the tent and Iolaus waited until the last sounds had died away before whispering, “Herc…Hercules? Is it really you?”

“Shh,” said Hercules, lips pressed close to Iolaus’s ear. “Yes it’s me…and everything’s going to be okay.” 

\------------------

To be continued


	3. Rescue Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hercules mounts a rescue mission to save his partner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning is for the threat of non-con, which may or may not be carried out.

(Five days earlier)

Iolaus had been right, thought Hercules as he toyed idly with his food. The symposium, while certainly a worthy idea, was pretty boring. All the more so, because – as a symbol of honesty and fairness – his participation had been limited to the role of an observer.  
“It’s not that I wouldn’t appreciate your input, Hercules,” Iphicles had told him before the sessions had started. “It’s just that this is something the kingdoms have to work out for themselves. Sure I could just tell them what I want them to decide, or have *you* tell them. But we need to be able to work together to deal with the issues.”

So Hercules had sat and listened and occasionally acted as peacemaker when disagreements became too heated. Not that there had been many times when Hercules had had to step in, at least that would have been more interesting. 

The days had passed slowly, the last few days even more so as Hercules started to grow concerned over Iolaus’s absence. True, he was only a few days late and it was quite possible he had lost track of time or simply misjudged the distance to Corinth. There were plenty of innocent reasons why Iolaus wasn’t there, thought Hercules. The trouble was, there were an even greater number of serious matters that could have detained him, and Hercules had a bad feeling about it. “I’ll give him another two days,” Hercules said to himself, “Then I’m going to find him.” Decision made, he was about to continue eating when a servant appeared.

“Sir, the King has requested that you join him in the main hall immediately.” 

\----------------------------

“Slavers?” said Hercules. “I thought that was illegal in Corinth and its surroundings?”

“Unfortunately,” said Iphicles, “Sometimes making things illegal just means people cover their tracks better. I’ve had a lot of reports of it recently, so I sent out extra patrols in the border areas. One of them found a group of people who’d managed to escape. They said that a stranger snuck into the camp one night and managed to free a number of them before being captured.” Iphicles hesitated before continuing, “Hercules, from the description they gave…I think it may have been Iolaus.”

Hercules felt like he’d been punched in the stomach, “When?” was all he could manage to say.

“Nine, maybe ten days ago,” said Iphicles. He indicated a spot on a map which had been laid out on a table. “My men picked them up here six days ago. They searched the area but couldn’t pick up a trail so they sent word here.”

“I have to go…maybe I can find the trail,” said Hercules.

“They could be anywhere in the province by now,” said Iphicles. “Now one of the captives said that they overheard the leader of group, a man named Belchor, mention what he thought was going to be their eventual destination.” Iphicles put another marker down on the map. “Unfortunately slavery is still legal there and there’s any number of routes they could be taking to get there.”

Hercules looked at the map and his heart sank. There was so much ground to cover. For all he knew, Iolaus could be at the port and on a slave ship already. Assuming of course that this Belchor hadn’t just killed him on the spot. No, Hercules forced the thought from his mind as he realized that Iphicles was still speaking.

“Luckily I haven’t had him transported to Golgoth yet,” said Iphicles.

“What? Who?” asked Hercules. 

“Somebody who may be able to help us.”

\----------------------

‘Somebody’ proved to be a prisoner being held in the city jail.   
“His name is Eldred,” said Iphicles as he and Hercules stood in the corridor. “He was caught trading slaves within the Kingdom a few months ago, and it wasn’t the first time. It’s possible he might know this Belchor, or know of him.”

Eldred looked up from his seat on the bench as the two men approached him. “Well well well, if it isn’t the King of Corinth come to visit a lowly prisoner. I’d offer you a drink, but I’m all out.” He spat on the ground. 

“We’re looking for information on a man named Belchor,” said Hercules. “Do you know him?”

“What’s it to you if I do?” asked Eldred. “More importantly, what’s in it for me?”

“He has, we think he has a friend of mine held captive,” said Hercules. “And I want him back.” 

“Maybe I do know this Belchor you’re talking about,” said Eldred, leaning back against the wall and smiling. “But like I said, what’s in it for me?”

Hercules grabbed the bars of the cell. “Tell us what you know!” A hand on his shoulder stopped him.   
“How about a reduction of your sentence?” said Iphicles. “You tell us what you know, and if we find Belchor as a result of your information, you’ll get out of Golgoth in half the time.”

“Fat lot of good that’ll do me,” said Eldred, “You know half the prisoners there never see freedom again.”

“Actually it’s more like one in ten,” said Iphicles, “But it’s still far better odds than most of the people you kidnapped and sold into slavery. But if you’re not interested, then fine. We’ll find Belchor ourselves. Come on Hercules, we’ve wasted enough time here.” 

He turned as if to leave, only for Eldred to call after him. “Wait, I’ll take that deal.”

\---------------------------

“Were you really going to just walk away?” asked Hercules when they were back in the castle.   
Eldred as it turned out, not only knew Belchor, but had been his partner in the trade for several years until they’d decided to part company. “I know all his routes, all the people he trades with,” Eldred had boasted. “You show me where he was last seen, where he’s heading, I can tell you where to find him.” 

Hercules wasn’t sure whether or not to believe the man, but he’d gone back to the castle with Iphicles to retrieve the map just in case.

“Were you really going to just walk away?”

“No,” said Iphicles, rolling up the map carefully. “But he didn’t know that.” He put the map in a bag and then looked at Hercules, “Hercules, it’s all well and good knowing where Belchor is likely to be, but you can’t just march up to his camp and demand he hand over Iolaus.”

“Sounds like a good plan to me,” said Hercules.

“Well it’s a stupid plan. If Belchor’s as ruthless as Eldred said, he’ll probably just tell his men to kill you where you stand, and yes, I know you’ll outnumber them one to twenty, but while you’re fighting your way through the camp, what do you think he’s going to do to Iolaus and the rest of the prisoners?”

“And what do you suggest? Send in one of your patrols? You think they’ll do any better?” 

“Well there has to be a better way to take down Belchor without any innocent people getting hurt,” said Iphicles. 

Hercules was silent for a few seconds and then a smile appeared on his face, “I think I may have a plan.”

\---------------------------

“How would you like your prison term reduced to zero,” said Iphicles. 

“I’m listening,” said Eldred.

“You help us find Belchor and take him down. Once he’s sitting where you are now, you’ll be a free man.”

“Freedom’s not much good when you can’t make a living. My father traded slaves, so did his father before him. Now you say I can’t do it no more, fine, but I can’t live on air. So you want my help, I want money to get a new life. Five thousand denarii or you take your chances with Belchor on your own.” 

“Five hundred,” said Iphicles, cutting off Hercules who had been about to protest. 

They finally settled on fifteen hundred, five hundred to be paid up front and the remainder when the plan succeeded. 

“So what do I have to do?” asked Eldred when the deal was agreed.

“You’re going to come with me and pick up Belchor’s trail,” said Hercules. “When we find him, you introduce me as somebody who wants to buy some slaves and has a *lot* of money to spend. Once I get Iolaus out of Belchor’s hands, Iphicles’s men will take him down and you get the rest of your money.”

“Yeah, if I live that long,” snapped Eldred. “You better be one hell of an actor, because Belchor’s no fool. You look at your friend like he’s anything other than a piece of meat, believe me Belchor will notice. At best, he might just think he can force you to pay way over the odds. Or maybe he’ll figure out what your interest *really* is, then we’re all dead meat.” Eldred paused, “Well maybe not you, but if Belchor knows how much your buddy means to you, he’ll have a knife to his throat before you can lift a finger.”

“You just concentrate on your own part in this,” said Iphicles. “I’ll have one of my men come get you when we’re ready to leave.”

\--------------------------

Hercules followed Iphicles out of the prison. “Iphicles, about Eldred’s fee. I don’t have that sort of money.”

“No, but I personally do,” said Iphicles. He turned to look at Hercules, “Look Iolaus is family. Whatever it takes to get him back, he’s worth it.” He turned around and continued walking, calling back as he went, “And if you tell him I said that, I’ll deny every word. Now come on, we have a lot of work to do.”

\--------------------------------

“Eldred is right though,” said Iphicles later that day as he and Hercules sorted through the supplies that Hercules would need to convince Belchor of his intentions. “Iolaus’s life depends on both of you being able to convince Belchor that you’re just another trader...”

 

“I can do it, Iphicles,” interrupted Hercules.

 

“But will Iolaus be able to?” said Iphicles. “He’ll have been in Belchor’s hands for so long. You ride up like a big damn hero to rescue him, he may not realize until it’s too late that he shouldn’t acknowledge you. You have to find a way to avoid that until it’s safe to let him in on the plan”

 

Hercules thought for a moment, “You finish up here,” he said, “There’s something I need to do”

“Hercules!” Iphicles called after him but was ignored. “Fine,” he said to himself. “Just run off and leave me to do all the hard work. I’m the King of Corinth, dammit!”

\-------------------------------------

“Aphrodite!” called Hercules as he stood before the altar in her temple. “Hey, I could really do with your help right about now.”

“No need to yell, Bro,” said Aphrodite, materializing right behind Hercules and almost making him jump. “I’m right here. Guess I should be grateful you didn’t start wrecking the place to get my attention.”

Hercules refrained from comment, knowing that that would have been his next move. “Aphrodite, I need your help.” He took a deep breath before continuing, “I want you to give me a makeover.”

“Oh Herc baby, it’s about time!” said Aphrodite. She walked around Hercules, tutting disapprovingly. “You have been stuck in a rut for years. Don’t you know that leather pants are soooo last millennium? And as for that hair.” She pulled at a clump of Hercules’s hair. “How about I give you some blond highlights, then you and sweetcheeks will be a matching set. And maybe some black velvet pants. I can go with leather if you insist, but that’d be a bit too much like Ares, and you know how he gets if he thinks someone’s encroaching on his territory.” Aphrodite clapped her hands in glee, “But first off, a bit of exfoliation.”

“Aphrodite!” Hercules finally managed to get a word in edgeways. “That’s not really the look I’m interested in. I’m thinking of something a bit less…classy…”

It took a lot of convincing, but Aphrodite finally agreed to work her magic on Hercules to *his* specifications. “Although what I’ll say if word gets out, I don’t know.” A few waves of her hand later and Hercules’s hair and beard had darkened considerably and grown long and matted. His pants and vest were replaced by animal skins, filthy and so foul smelling that Hercules nearly gagged when they appeared.

“I could give you a few scars as well,” said Aphrodite, trying not to stand too close to Hercules. “That’d really make you unrecognizable.”

Hercules looked at himself in a mirror and grimaced as he considered the offer. On the one hand, the less recognizable the better. On the other hand, he had been lucky to have found Aphrodite this time, and he wanted a disguise that wouldn’t require her assistance to remove afterwards. “I think I’m good.”

Aphrodite walked around Hercules and nodded approvingly. “You may be good, but I am fantastic! Hercules, I never thought I’d say this, but you look truly disgusting. I just hope that Iolaus appreciates all the effort you’re going to for him.”

Hercules almost dropped the mirror in surprise, “How did you know?”

“Uh hello, goddess of love here. You think I can’t tell when somebody’s putting themselves on the line for somebody they love? Now go and do what you have to do. I would kiss you for luck, but ugh!”

She disappeared. Hercules replaced the mirror, retrieved his own clothing and made his way back to the castle. So effective was Aphrodite’s work that he had to lift the main gate off its hinges to prove who he was to the guards.

\----------------------

It was all going according to plan thought Hercules as he and Eldred or rather 'Kester' and Eldred told Belchor of all the plans they had in store for their soon to be newly acquired slaves. "That is," Hercules said, "if you have anything suitable."

"I have a wide variety of stock," said Belchor, with an oily smile "I'm sure there will be plenty to take your fancy." 

Hercules had to struggle to keep his disgust from showing on his face at the way Belchor so casually described his captives. It was an unintended but fortunate consequence of Aphrodite's handiwork that the beard made it easier to conceal his feelings. 

Hercules and Eldred had left Corinth along with a small group of Iphicles’s men a few days earlier. Under Eldred’s direction, they’d made their way through the province until they’d picked up Belchor’s trail. Iphicles’s men had concealed themselves, allowing Eldred and Hercules to ‘accidentally’ cross paths with Belchor’s scouts and obtain themselves an introduction to their leader.

Hercules had kept an eye out for Iolaus as they rode up to the camp, heart aching for the sight of his partner. He’d managed to catch a brief glimpse of a blond figure in chains, trudging wearily behind a wagon. But Belchor’s men had set a steady pace, and Hercules could not slow down for a better look without arousing suspicion.

“Enough talk,” said Hercules, when he could no longer stomach Belchor’s recitation of his captives attributes. “Let us see what you have to offer us.” 

Hercules followed Belchor and Eldred out of the tent, discreetly casting his eyes around to see how many men Belchor had and how well armed they were. The path took them past a wagon to which a man was chained, and Hercules’s heart almost skipped a beat as he realized that it was indeed Iolaus. “Don’t acknowledge him,” Hercules told himself as he drew nearer. “To you he’s just a piece of property.” He glanced at Iolaus, carefully taking note of how his friend was faring. To Hercules’s relief, apart from some fading bruises and dark circles under his eyes, Iolaus didn’t appear to have any visible injuries. More importantly for the plan, Iolaus didn’t appear to recognize him, or if he did was doing a good job of hiding it.

To Hercules’s surprise, Belchor didn’t break stride as they walked past Iolaus. It took all of Hercules’s self control not to break with the plan and simply free Iolaus there and then. He knew it would have been an easy matter to break the chains and if necessary carry Iolaus to safety, but Hercules also knew that that would leave the other captives still in Belchor’s hands, not to mention Eldred who would surely face Belchor’s wrath for his betrayal. Not that Hercules had any particular concerns for Eldred, however he had made a deal with the man and that made Eldred’s safety *his* responsibility until Belchor was taken down. 

Eldred was certainly earning his money, thought Hercules as the bargaining went on. ‘Kester’ picked out the slaves he was interested in, and Hercules apologized silently to them as he manhandled them as a slaver would. He swore that each and every one of them would receive a personal apology once this was all over, but for now Hercules forced himself to remember to play his part. He let Eldred handle most of the negotiations, occasionally stepping in insist that a particular price was too high or to insist that a particular slave be purchased whatever the cost. Finally, an agreement was reached that appeared to satisfy both parties and Belchor headed back to the camp, leaving Hercules and Eldred to follow at their leisure.

“Why hasn’t he shown us Iolaus?” asked Hercules when they were out of earshot. “I told him I wanted some good fighters, Iolaus is the best there is and he certainly wouldn’t have been captured without a fight. Shouldn’t Belchor have tried to include him in the deal?”

Eldred shrugged, “Maybe he figures he’ll get a better price in the port. Look, he’s obviously keeping your buddy separate for a reason. Probably just wants to get you interested so you’ll pay more. We should wait until he makes the first move, that way we’ll get a better deal. You go showing your hand now he’ll screw us on price.” 

“Iolaus has waited long enough,” said Hercules. Up ahead of them, he could see Belchor stopping to talk to Iolaus, a knife in his hand. “Come on.” He quickened his pace, ignoring Eldred’s protests.

“Belchor,” said Hercules loudly when he was close enough. “Have you been holding out on me?” 

“Whatever you do mean, my friend,” said Belchor, a wide smile on his face as he replaced the knife in his belt. 

Hercules’s eyes narrowed as he saw a drop of blood on Iolaus’s neck. “You keep all your other wares, a bare chain between them. But this one.” He waved his hand towards Iolaus, “With so many chains. Clearly holds such high value that you fear losing him before a price has been agreed. Although at first glance,” he looked Iolaus up and down, “I fail to see what would merit such value.” Inwardly, Hercules knew that Iolaus would make him pay for that remark once they were safe; he only hoped he wouldn’t have to wait too long.

“Consider it ‘saving the best for last’,” said Belchor. “This one however unimpressive he looks, he does have superior fighting skills and I expect a good price for him at the market.” 

He started to turn away but Hercules wasn’t about to let the opportunity go just yet. “He is not for sale? Pity, sometimes I like it when they can fight back.” He shrugged his shoulders, “Maybe I have made enough purchases for one day.” Hercules held his breath, hoping that Belchor would take the bait.

“I’m always open to negotiation,” said Belchor looking Hercules directly in the eyes. “But if you’re not interested.” 

Hercules cursed his lack of experience in bargaining as he held Belchor’s gaze. Maybe Eldred had been right and he should have let Belchor make the first move. Finally he said, “Enough of this. I have wine in my tent. We shall feast to celebrate the deal already made, and you can persuade me why this one should be added to it. Yes?”

“Yes,” said Belchor. Hercules clapped him on the back, taking a small amount of pleasure in the way Belchor stumbled before regaining his balance. With difficulty, Hercules refrained from looking at Iolaus, instead making for his tent without a backward glance.

“What in Tartarus were you thinking?” hissed Eldred as soon as the tent flaps closed behind him. “Now you’ve shown your interest, Belchor’s going to know he can double the price, maybe even treble it.” He started pacing up and down. “We’re already paying over the odds for half the slaves you picked out because you wouldn’t leave well enough alone!”

“I think you’re forgetting just who is in charge here,” said Hercules.

“Yeah, you’re the boss,” growled Eldred. “Well I just hope you brought enough coin with you, otherwise your friend is gonna be staying right where he is!”

“What makes you think I’m going to need *any* coin?” asked Hercules. He watched as Eldred came to a stop and turned to stare at him. “Do you really think I intend to give a single denari to that man? He’s a criminal and we’re here to stop him.”

“Well…” Eldred hesitated. “Well no, I mean, I sort of figured you’d have to bring enough to show good faith…you mean you don’t have *any* money with you?”

Hercules shrugged, “A few hundred denarii, enough to weight down a coin pouch.” 

“Belchor finds out you’ve no money, we’re both dead.” 

“Then don’t tell him,” said Hercules, losing patience with the man. Not that he’d had a lot to start with. Hercules despised Eldred and all that he represented, and if he’d been able to think of an alternative plan he’d have left the man to rot in Iphicles’s prisons. But a deal had been struck, and like it or not Hercules would live up to his end of the bargain until Belchor was neutralized. As far as Hercules was concerned, that time couldn’t come soon enough.

Hercules walked over to the tent entrance and took a discreet look out to check on Iolaus. To his dismay, he saw Iolaus be unchained from the cart and led away. Hercules knew that he didn’t dare follow him. It wasn’t like Kester was inconspicuous, and it might arouse suspicions if he was seen snooping around the camp. “Eldred,” said Hercules, still watching Iolaus. “I think it’s time for you to take a stroll around the camp.” He turned to Eldred. “They’re taking Iolaus somewhere, follow him and if they hurt him, come and get me. If you get spotted, just tell them, tell them I sent you to get another look at him. If that makes Belchor drive a harder bargain, so be it.”

“What did your last slave die of,” grumbled Eldred. He pushed past Hercules and left the tent. 

“Only a few more hours,” thought Hercules as he watched Eldred disappear from view. “A few more hours and it should all be over.” He hoped that Iolaus could hold out that long. Hercules also hoped that *he* could hold out that long. 

\---------------------------------

Under other circumstances, it would have been an appetizing meal, thought Hercules. But it was hard for him to enjoy the food when Iolaus was suffering so much. 

Eldred had returned to the tent to inform Hercules that Iolaus was simply being cleaned up before the feast. It was clear that Belchor intended him to be the main attraction, and Hercules’s hands clenched involuntarily into fists as he watched Iolaus be put on display in the centre of the camp. 

Eldred had cautioned Hercules again before the meal about the importance of letting Belchor make the first move when it came to Iolaus. “Maybe it doesn’t matter to you what price he goes for, but you make him any way suspicious then we’re both in trouble.”

Hercules had intended to follow Eldred’s advice, really he had. But the evening had dragged on and Belchor hadn’t so much as glanced in Iolaus’s direction, much less brought him up in conversation. Finally Hercules could wait no longer. He’d carefully chosen a place to sit that gave him a good view of where Iolaus was chained – and Belchor’s smug grin as he sat down hadn’t escaped Hercules’s notice. Now as he watched Iolaus’s head fall against his arms, Hercules was afraid that his friend had reached the end of his strength. 

“Hey, do not fall asleep, little man! The night is still young!” Hercules was relieved to see Iolaus react so quickly. Turning to Belchor, he said, “So Belchor, you have still to convince me that this one is worth bargaining for.” He bit down on a chunk of meat. 

“I would have thought that his attributes were pretty obvious,” said Belchor. “For a man of your particular appetites at least. Or perhaps Eldred misinformed me?” 

Hercules nearly choked on the bite he’d taken as he glanced sharply at Eldred and wondered what exactly the man had said about his interest in Iolaus. Forcing a laugh, Hercules turned back to Belchor, “There are no secrets between friends, are there!” He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and belched loudly. “It is true; he appears to hold a certain attraction. But I do not wish to waste my money on something which may prove worthless for my needs.” A sudden idea came into his head and he pushed himself up from the ground and moved over to Iolaus’s side.

“Perhaps a trial run would be a good idea,” said Hercules, running his hand down Iolaus’s spine. “And then in the morning, if he is still suitable, we can agree a price.” Hercules didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it before. All he needed to do was persuade Belchor to let him take Iolaus into the tent. Once out of sight of prying eyes, Hercules knew it would be safe to reveal himself and the plan to his friend. And more importantly, it would get Iolaus out of immediate harm’s way. With that thought in mind, Hercules let his hand rest in the small of Iolaus’s back, automatically caressing it gently and only stopping when Belchor moved over to join them.

“Perhaps we should see some coin change hand first,” said Belchor. “You’ve agreed to pay a substantial sum already and while I’m sure you’re good for it, if you’re not, well I’ve still got my stock and time to make port so I’m not out of pocket either way. But for all I know, you could just want a night of pleasure at my expense. So it’s going to be cash up front for this one.”

“Name your price,” said Hercules.

“One hundred denarii.”

“Are you kidding!” blurted out Iolaus. 

Hercules didn’t even think about whether it would be in character for Kester to block the blow, he just knew that there was no way he was going to see Iolaus hurt in front of him. “That seems a very low price.” He squeezed Belchor’s arm. “It will be lower still if he gets damaged before I have a chance to play with him.” 

“Oh you mistake me,” said Belchor, pulling his hand free. “That’s not his selling price…that’s just the charge for one night.”

Hercules threw back his head and laughed. He slapped Iolaus on the ass, and then reached for his belt pouch. “Twenty-five denarii.” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Eldred nodding approvingly. 

“Oh come on!” said Iolaus, but both men ignored him.

“Seventy-five,” said Belchor. “After all, if he doesn’t live up to your expectations, I may have to reduce his price for my next buyer.”

“Forty,” said Hercules, mentally counting how much coin he actually had in his pouch. “And another amphora of wine from my provisions.” 

“Fifty, and two amphorae.”

Hercules held Belchor’s gaze for a few seconds, trying to judge whether or not the man would budge on price, before realizing that it didn’t matter. He had enough money and enough wine; if Belchor was willing to settle for that price then in a matter of minutes, Iolaus would be safe or at least safer, and that was all that mattered. “Done!” said Hercules with a smile. He spat on his hand and held it out to Belchor, who gripped it firmly, only to wince in pain as Hercules squeezed it just enough to hurt. 

“Eldred!” shouted Hercules, “Get the wine from the tent.” He started to count out the coins. “And take your bedroll too. You can make camp with Belchor. I don’t want to be disturbed before morning!” It was in character thought Hercules as he watched Eldred head for the tent. ‘Kester’ certainly wouldn’t want to share his new toy with anybody. And it would do no harm to be able to bring Iolaus up to speed on the plan without Eldred listening in. Hercules waited impatiently as Belchor freed Iolaus and fastened a chain to his collar.

“He’s all yours,” said Belchor. “I’m sure he won’t cause you any trouble.” This was addressed to Iolaus before Belchor handed the chain to Hercules. “Just remember, you break it, you bought it.”

“Perhaps I shall do both!” Hercules took the chain in one hand and pulled it quickly, accidentally making Iolaus stumble forward. He apologized inwardly, but knew that it would look good for their audience, many of whom seemed quite amused by the proceedings.

Hercules knew that he was walking too fast for Iolaus, but he couldn’t help it. The entrance to the tent was getting closer and closer. “Just a few more seconds,” thought Hercules, willing his partner to keep going. “You’re almost safe.” The chain grew taut in his hand and Hercules turned back to see what was happening. To his shock, he saw that the color was drained from Iolaus’s face which bore a look of fear and barely restrained panic. Hercules reacted instinctively, wanting to get Iolaus to the relative safety of the tent as quickly as he could. “You walk too slowly!” he growled, “Morning will be here and our time together will be up before I’m finished with you!” With the ease of years of practice, Hercules grabbed Iolaus and threw him over his shoulder. “Until the morning!” he called back towards Belchor as he strode towards the tent. 

Hercules almost breathed a sigh of relief as the tent flaps fell closed behind him. He quickly placed Iolaus on his feet and then turned around to make sure the entrance was secure against prying eyes. Glancing outside, Hercules frowned as he saw a few of Belchor’s men rise from their places and start moving towards the tent. He took his time tying the flaps closed, but the men didn’t appear to be making for the entrance, instead circling around it.

Turning back to Iolaus, Hercules raised his voice for the benefit of anybody passing close enough to the tent to hear. “So little man, where shall we begin?” 

Hercules was about to signal to Iolaus to stay silent, but before he could move, Iolaus had taken a step forward and opened his mouth, “Herc…” was all he managed to voice before Hercules backhanded him across the mouth. By Hercules’s standards, it was barely a tap, but he watched in horror as Iolaus fell to the ground, his lip bleeding. “I’m so sorry, Iolaus,” thought Hercules, wishing there’d been a better way to silence him, but he’d been unable to think of one in time and couldn’t risk any eavesdroppers hearing Iolaus say his name. 

“YOU DO NOT SPEAK UNLESS I GIVE YOU PERMISSION!” he bellowed. 

Hercules glanced quickly around the tent. He couldn’t see any, but he knew there were plenty of places where a small hole could be cut in the fabric for somebody to watch unobserved. Hercules knew that his and Iolaus’s lives might depend on how they both acted in the next few minutes. 

Grabbing the chain, Hercules pulled Iolaus up onto his hands and knees and started pulling him towards the bed area. “Move!” he yelled. “Faster, or feel the back of my hand again!” It wasn’t just to create the appearance of exerting his authority that made Hercules urge Iolaus on. He knew that the sooner he could get Iolaus onto the blankets, the sooner he could plausibly get close enough to him to reveal himself without being overheard. “I warned you little man, do not cross me!” Hercules added a slap to Iolaus’s ass to give the listeners something to hear.

Not wanting to hit him again, Hercules pulled Iolaus to a stop and then quickly stripped him, ripping the clothing as loudly as he could, certain that anybody listening or indeed watching would surely believe that Iolaus was in for a world of pain. He pushed Iolaus as gently as he dared and sent him sprawling onto the bed before starting to remove his own clothing.

“You are all mine now, little man!” Hercules was about to move Iolaus into a more comfortable position when suddenly his partner lashed out with both feed. The blow barely grazed Hercules and he had a sudden feeling of relief at the brief show of spirit from Iolaus. “That’s my partner!” thought Hercules, even as he said loudly, “Such spirit…now *this* is why I wanted you!” 

Wanting to finish it quickly, Hercules hurriedly grabbed Iolaus by both ankles, pulling him flat against the blankets. He quickly scrambled on top of Iolaus, grabbing his wrist shackles and stretching Iolaus’s arms out above his head. A knee between Iolaus’s legs, and Hercules had him pinned to the ground, unable to move, unable to hurt either of them through struggling. He slapped Iolaus on the leg and then said loudly, “Fighting is good, but it will not help you now. I am going to make you mine!”

Hercules put his hand over Iolaus’s mouth and pressed his lips against Iolaus’s ear. “On three,” he whispered, “I’m going to remove my hand. And you are going to scream…just like you did when you were bitten by the Strygoia…Iolaus.” Hercules could feel Iolaus’s whole body tense up beneath him and hoped that he’d understood. “Three…” he said, removing his hand. 

Iolaus’s scream went echoing through the tent and would have had Hercules frantic with worry if he hadn’t known the reason for it. He slapped himself on the leg as hard as he could, and beneath him Iolaus cut off the scream as if he’d been the one hit. In the sudden silence, they could both hear the sounds of cheering and cat calling just outside the tent.

“Yeah, that’s the way to do it!” A voice rose above the noise. “You give him one from us!” was another slurred contribution. 

Hercules shifted his weight and shouted out, “Hey, did I not say I was *not* to be disturbed until morning?” 

There was a sound of movement outside the tent, which soon died away. Hercules could feel some of the tension leave Iolaus’s body, “Herc…Hercules? Is it really you?”

“Shh,” said Hercules, lips pressed close to Iolaus’s ear, just in case there were a few stragglers. “Yes, it’s me…and everything’s going to be okay.” 

 

To be continued


	4. Iolaus Unchained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hercules's plan is in motion, but will it be out of the frying pan and into the fire?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The warning is for a threat, which may or may not be carried out.

Iolaus could still barely believe it as he replayed the last few hours in his mind. It had been so real, Kester had been so convincing. “Not Kester,” Iolaus told himself, “Hercules.” It didn’t make him feel any better as his hands clenched involuntarily into fists. 

Hercules could feel Iolaus’s body shaking beneath him. “Iolaus?” He put a hand on Iolaus’s shoulder, “What’s wrong?” he asked softly.

“Hercules…” Iolaus could barely get the words out. “Five minutes ago…I thought you were going to…I thought I was going to be…” Iolaus closed his eyes and swallowed hard, trying to push away the memories, feeling as sick to the stomach as he had when Kester had been handing over the fifty denarii. 

“I’m sorry,” said Hercules, “I wish there’d been another way.”

“I know, I know,” said Iolaus. “I just…I need to…can you get off me, please?” There was a note of barely restrained panic in his voice. 

Hercules let go of Iolaus’s wrists and rolled onto his side beside him, carefully positioning himself so that his body was between Iolaus and that of the tent entrance, but not actually touching him. Reaching out, he dragged a blanket over the two of them. 

Iolaus let out a long shaky breath as he felt the weight lift off his body. Rolling onto his side, facing away from Hercules, he pulled his arms down and his knees up and tried to get his breathing and heart rate under control. It wasn’t helped by the fact that every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Kester standing over him, and every breath he took, brought with it the scent of skins that Kester had worn. The touch of a hand on his shoulder startled him and he had to bite down on the cry of fear that threatened to escape him.

“I’m sorry,” said Hercules again, wishing that there was something he could do to help. But he knew Iolaus, and he knew that this was something his partner had to work through himself. All Hercules could do was be there when he was needed. Hercules squeezed Iolaus’s shoulder gently and was about to remove his hand when Iolaus reached up and pulled it to his chest, clasping it in both hands as if it was a lifeline. And perhaps for him it was.

Iolaus closed his eyes as he traced the contours of Hercules’s hand, a hand that he knew as well as his own. “This is Hercules,” he repeated to himself over and over. “I’m safe…” Although he mentally corrected that to ‘safer’, because being trapped in a tent in the middle of a camp of bandits who were well armed and not very happy with him, wasn’t really all that safe. “But I’m better off than I was a few hours ago…and with Hercules at my back…” Iolaus let out a deep breath, somewhat relieved at how steady it felt compared to a few minutes earlier. He knew that this wasn’t over; he knew that he was going to have to deal with it at some point. Right now however, Iolaus knew that he needed to focus on the situation at hand. When he heard Hercules speak again a few minutes later, it didn’t make him jump.

“Iolaus,” said Hercules, “I know this hasn’t been easy for you.” He smiled as he heard a snort of disbelief from his partner. “And in any other circumstances, well, almost any other circumstances, believe me, I’d let you take as much time as you needed to deal with it. But we’re not safe yet.” Hercules almost sighed with relief as Iolaus shifted position, edging backwards until his back was pressed against Hercules’s chest, and Hercules’s arm was pulled close around him. “We need to talk.”

“I’m listening,” said Iolaus. “But how did you even know I was in trouble? How did you find me?” 

“I always know when you’re trouble,” said Hercules, “Pretty much any time you’re out of my sight!” A slap to the back of Hercules’s hand was Iolaus’s response. “As for how I found you….” Hercules quickly filled Iolaus in on what had happened over the past few weeks. 

“So,” said Iolaus finally. “Now what?”

“Now we wait until Belchor’s men have finished that wine I gave them,” said Hercules. “You see there’s a little extra ingredient in it…something that Asclepius taught me. Iphicles’s men will have moved into position under cover of darkness. They’ll launch the raid once I signal them. Anybody who drank the wine will be dead to the world by then so there shouldn’t be too much resistance.” 

“But what about you?” asked Iolaus. “You drank it too...didn’t you?” Iolaus hadn’t exactly been paying too much attention to the proceedings, but he was sure that he’d seen Kes…Hercules drink a toast earlier that evening. 

“Only a sip,” said Hercules, “One advantage of this beard.” He let his chin rest against Iolaus’s shoulder. “I could have spilled the whole amphora into it and nobody would have realized.” He could feel Iolaus’s body start to shake. “Iolaus? What’s wrong?” Hercules started to pull away, but Iolaus kept a firm grip on his arm.

“Nothing…nothing’s wrong,” said Iolaus. “It’s just that damn beard is tickling me!”

Hercules couldn’t stop himself from laughing as he moved, just enough to stop the beard making contact with Iolaus’s skin. “Come on,” he said, sitting up. “We’ve got at least another hour to wait, to make sure the wine takes effect. Let’s get you something to eat; I can’t imagine Belchor’s catering was all that good when he didn’t have ‘special’ guests to impress!”

“You’re telling me!” said Iolaus, reluctantly letting go of Hercules’s arm. He stretched out like a cat, only pausing when the chains on his wrists restricted his movements.

“Here, let me,” said Hercules, reaching for the chain.

“If you have a knife,” said Iolaus as he sat up, “I can do it myself…I’ve had plenty of practice.”

“Something you want to tell me?” asked Hercules as he retrieved a knife from Kester’s clothing. 

“Let’s just say, I wasn’t exactly a model prisoner,” said Iolaus, a smug look on his face as he took the knife. “I believe you promised me food?” he added as he started to work on the lock.

Hercules smiled as he pulled his pants on, then wrinkled his nose as the scent of them hit his nostrils. “Thank you Aphrodite,” he said to himself. “I’m going to need a long bath when all this is over.” 

It took him a few minutes to retrieve the store of fruit and dried meat that he’d brought for the journey, and to bring them back to Iolaus who by then had removed the wrist shackles and was working on his collar. On the way, he carefully checked the perimeter of the tent, but was unable to see or hear anybody trying to spy on them. 

“Dammit!” swore Iolaus as Hercules sat down beside him. He threw the knife on the blanket in frustration.

“What’s wrong?” asked Hercules.

“I can’t see what I’m doing,” said Iolaus. “I can’t pick the lock on this.” He tugged angrily at the heavy collar around his neck.

Hercules put down the plate of food and took a look at the collar. “I could break it…but I’d be afraid of hurting you.” More than I already have, he added silently. “Why not wait until we’ve taken the camp? Belchor will surely have the key with him.”

“NO!” said Iolaus loudly, too loudly for both his and Hercules’s liking, and he quickly closed his mouth, holding his breath in case he’d been overheard. When there was no sound from outside, he continued, “No,” he said in a quieter voice. “I want it off…I *need* it off of me now. Besides…if there’s fighting, it’ll only get in the way, slow me down.”

“Okay,” said Hercules, “Let me try it.”

Iolaus closed his eyes as Hercules placed his hands on the collar. His hands clenched into fists around the blanket wrapped around him as he felt Kester’s fingers slip inside the collar, pressing against his neck as they settled their grip. The pressure increased, there was a sudden snap, and Iolaus could feel the pieces of the collar falling away. He opened his eyes to see Hercules looking at him with a concerned expression on his face.

“Are you okay?” asked Hercules. The look on Iolaus’s face while he’d manipulated the collar worried Hercules. That, and his vehement reaction to Hercules’s suggestion about leaving it in place. Hercules had seen Iolaus fight when burdened with ropes or chains and even a broken arm, and he knew that the collar, heavy though it was, would scarcely have impeded him. 

“I’m fine,” said Iolaus, flexing his neck. “Oh it feels good to get rid of that thing.” He touched his neck and grimaced as he felt a tender spot. 

“Eat up then,” said Hercules, “I’ve got some salve I can put on that.”

“Thanks,” said Iolaus, taking a bite out of an apple. “Mmm,” he said with his mouth full. “This is sooo good!” 

Hercules let Iolaus eat his fill before administering the first aid. He was relieved to find that Iolaus had only superficial damage, mainly bruises plus some scrapes from the shackles and the collar he’d been forced to wear which Hercules quickly cleaned and applied a healing salve to. The worst injury that Iolaus was sporting was that to his lip and Hercules felt a wave of guilt come over him as he watched Iolaus dab at it carefully with a damp cloth. 

“So what’s Belchor’s security like?” asked Hercules, in an effort to distract himself. 

“A lot tighter since I got here,” said Iolaus. He had a grin on his face as he looked up at Hercules, “I may have inadvertently shown them a few holes in their security regimen.” He quickly explained to Hercules about his earlier efforts at sabotage. “Of course once Belchor caught me, that was the end of all that,” he added. 

“So he chained you up to keep you on your best behavior?”

“That…plus he threatened to harm some of the other prisoners…the less ‘valuable’ ones if I caused any trouble.”

“I’m sure he won’t cause you any trouble” Belchor’s words echoed in Hercules’s mind. “That’s what Belchor meant?” he said. “That’s why you weren’t fighting Kester? At least until I pushed you too far…dammit Iolaus, I’m sorry …” 

“Hercules, it’s okay,” said Iolaus. “You weren’t to know. Anyway,” he added, in an effort to change the subject, “When do we put the rest of your plan in action? I fancy dealing with a bit of ‘resistance’!”

“As soon as the camp has settled down for the night,” said Hercules. “Anybody who drank the wine won’t wake before morning.”

“Wait, what about the guards watching the prisoners? They weren’t at the feast so they won’t have drunk anything. There’s usually about five or six.”

Hercules thought about that for a few seconds. Five or six guards wasn’t a problem, but if they were guarding the prisoners when Iphicles’s men attacked, then there was a serious danger of innocent people being hurt in the confusion. “Maybe the guards will accept a drink if Kester offers it,” he said with a smile. “I think it’s time he decided to survey some of his new acquisitions!” 

“What are we waiting for?” said Iolaus, scrambling to his feet. 

“WE aren’t waiting for anything,” said Hercules, standing up as well. “I’ll handle the guards, you wait here.” 

“What? You don’t think you’re leaving me behind!” said Iolaus indignantly.

“There are two good reasons why you need to stay here,” said Hercules. “Firstly, if I go alone…if Kester shows up to ‘examine’ his acquisitions, the guards aren’t going to be too suspicious. But if you’re there as well, they might start to wonder why.”

Iolaus had to admit that Hercules had a point about that. “And the second reason?”

“Well you’re not exactly dressed for the occasion.”

“Oh yeah, and whose fault is *that*! I don’t suppose you brought a change of clothing with you.”

“Nothing in your size buddy,” said Hercules, “But Eldred left his cloak here; that should at least keep you warm until I get back.”

Iolaus reluctantly conceded that Hercules was right to go alone. “Be careful,” he said, hugging Hercules tightly before he left. “Ugh,” he added, wrinkling his nose in mock distaste. “The sooner you can ditch those clothes the better!”

“Hey, you’re not exactly smelling of roses yourself!”

“Yeah, but at least I’ve had a bath this week!” A kiss from Hercules shut Iolaus up briefly. 

“I’ll be back before you know it,” said Hercules. He wished he didn’t have to leave Iolaus behind, but knew it was the best option. 

“Just come back in one piece.”

\---------------------------------

As Hercules had hoped, Belchor’s guards were indeed most appreciative of the amphora of wine that Kester offered them “To celebrate a most profitable encounter,” he had told them. “It would be a shame if anybody was forced to miss out!” He’d carefully increased the amount of the sleeping potion in the wine so that it would take effect more quickly, and before he’d finished making his rounds of the guards, the first few were already swaying on their feet. The last guard had proven more suspicious than his comrades, but Hercules had easily disarmed him before forcing some of the wine down his throat and holding his mouth closed until he succumbed. 

Wiping his hands on his pants, Hercules quickly made his way to the nearest of the sleeping prisoners. Crouching down beside her, he was about to stretch out his hand to shake her awake when she suddenly rolled away from him and scrambled to her feet holding a stick. “Don’t you dare touch me!” she hissed, waving the stick at him. “I won’t let you touch me!”

“Whoa, it’s okay,” said Hercules, “I’m not going to hurt you.” He could see some of the other prisoners start to stir and knew he had to act quickly just in case any of them raised an alarm. “I’m here to help you.”

“Why should I believe you? I saw you earlier, with Belchor…I heard what you did to Iolaus, we all heard!”

“Iolaus is fine,” said Hercules, “He’s my best friend, and I came here to find him, and to free all of you.” 

More of the prisoners were starting to wake and one of them moved up to stand behind the woman with the stick. “Keti, what’s happening?” he asked.

“You’re Keti?” said Hercules, “Iolaus told me about you, he said that you helped him when he was sneaking out to sabotage Belchor’s travel plans.” He could see that Keti was struggling to believe him, “Keti, I’m going to get you and your friends out of here, but I need you to do what I say.” 

It took a bit of convincing, and not all of the prisoners were happy with Hercules’s plan for them to simply walk away from the camp and the sleeping guards. It had seemed like the best way to ensure that they were safe from any fighting, but not everyone had agreed. “Belchor will send his men after us before we get more than a mile,” argued one. “We could end up lost in the woods and starve,” said another. “Better off here, at least he feeds us.” “If you can call it food.”

“Iphicles of Corinth has sent a dozen men to help me take down Belchor,” said Hercules, “All you have to do is keep going on the heading I give you and you’ll walk right into their camp. And if you can’t make it that far, just wait in the woods and I promise that I’ll find you when the fighting is over.” 

Eventually, and with Keti’s help, Hercules had all the prisoners freed from their chains and convinced to move. “Stay as quiet as you can until you’re out of earshot,” he warned them as he started them in the right direction. 

“I wish you were coming with us to lead us,” said Keti, still clutching her stick. 

“You’ll be fine,” said Hercules, “I need to get back to Iolaus and make sure nobody from the camp is able to follow you.”

“Iolaus is lucky to have a friend like you.”

“I’m the lucky one,” said Hercules. He waited until the last of the group was out of earshot and then made his way back to the main camp. As he had hoped, there were no signs of movement, and he reached his tent without incident. 

Ducking inside, Hercules called to Iolaus, “Hope you found something to wear buddy, I think it’s time we got moving.” He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw Belchor standing in the centre of the tent, holding a knife to the throat of Iolaus who was on his knees in front of him.

“No, I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere,” said Belchor. 

\------------------------

to be continued


	5. Betrayed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iolaus is back in Belchor's hands, but who is reponsible for his return to captivity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The warning is for the threat of non-con, a threat which may or may not be carried out.

Ducking inside, Hercules called to Iolaus, “Hope you found something to wear buddy, I think it’s time we got moving.” He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw Belchor standing in the centre of the tent, holding a knife to the throat of Iolaus who was on his knees in front of him.

“No, I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere,” said Belchor. 

\------------------------  
[Chapter 5]  
Belchor had his hand in Iolaus's hair, forcing his head back, the blade of the knife resting against Iolaus's throat. Hercules could see the sharpness of the blade and knew that even with his speed, there was no way he would be able cover the distance between them before Belchor could slit Iolaus's throat. 

"What is the meaning of this?" asked Hercules, a note of anger in his voice as he tried to bluff his way out of the situation. "I have paid for the whole night. Is this how you treat all your customers?"

"No," said Belchor. "Only the ones who lie to me and plan to wreck my livelihood. Isn't that right...Hercules?”

Hercules felt the color drain from his face as Belchor continued, “Oh yes, I know all about you and your plan to rescue your little friend here." He tightened his grip on Iolaus's hair. "We've been having a most informative conversation here, haven't we?" 

\------------------

Iolaus hadn't been happy about letting Hercules leave him behind. "Bound to get into trouble without me," he'd muttered to himself as he'd retrieved his breechcloth which had managed to survive 'Kester's' efforts. "And then who's going to save his ass?" 

Eldred's cloak had also been located, and Iolaus draped it over his shoulders for warmth. "The sooner I get my own clothes back the better," he'd said to himself as he sat back down on the blankets with a fresh plate of food. 

Iolaus had just finished the last bite when he heard movement at the entrance to the tent, but his smile of relief died on his lips as he looked up and saw Belchor march in, followed by Erastos and Leon, two of his men who from Iolaus’s recollection had *not* partaken of the feast. 

"Where did he go?" snarled Belchor. 

"I don't think you understand the logistics of the master-slave relationship," said Iolaus. "He doesn't have to keep *me* informed of his whereabouts." Iolaus practically spat out the words, even as he groped behind him on the blanket trying to find the knife he'd dropped earlier. "But from the amount of wine he drank...afterwards," Iolaus shuddered theatrically, "My guess is that he's out looking for the nearest tree. Feel free to join him." 

"You can drop the act," snapped Belchor. "I know you're in cahoots with Kester...or should I say, Hercules. Isn't that right, Eldred?" Belchor stood aside to let Eldred enter the tent.

One look at Eldred and Iolaus knew that the man had betrayed them. He'd had his doubts about Eldred from the moment he'd set eyes on him, and had said as much to Hercules when his partner had filled him in on the plan. "I don't really trust him either," Hercules had said, "But I trust his love of the money he's still owed will be enough to keep him honest, at least until we get back to Corinth. After that, well he's Iphicles's problem." 

"When Hercules gets back," Iolaus told himself "We are going to have serious words about his trusting nature." Even as he was thinking, his body was moving instinctively, grabbing the serving plate and hurling it straight at Belchor. Without waiting to see if it hit the target, Iolaus scrambled to his feet glancing quickly around in search of a weapon, even as Leon and Erastos approached him menacingly. Iolaus managed to kick Leon in the chest, knocking him over, but Erastos dodged the next kick and managed to land a punch of his own which caught Iolaus on the side of his face, dazing him slightly. He would have recovered, but as he stumbled backwards, his feet got tangled in Eldred's cloak on the ground and he fell heavily. A kick in the ribs from Leon left Iolaus groaning. The next thing he knew he'd been hauled before Belchor, wrists tied behind him and forced to his knees. 

"I think we've been here before," said Belchor, grabbing Iolaus by the chin and forcing his gaze upwards. 

"Yeah," said Iolaus, "But last time we didn't have a traitor watching us." He jerked his head free and looked angrily at Eldred. "I knew Hercules shouldn't have trusted you! What happened, did Belchor offer you a better deal?"

"Let's just say that some people know where their loyalties lie," said Belchor. 

\--------------------------  
“What did your last slave die of?” grumbled Eldred as he pushed his way out of the tent. “Just because his brother’s the King of Corinth, doesn’t mean he can order people around,” he told himself even as he made his way through the camp. In the distance through the trees, Eldred could see Iolaus being led along on a chain by one of Belchor’s men and he hurried to keep up with them. It didn’t come as much of a surprise when they ended up close to the river, and Eldred watched as Belchor’s man started washing Iolaus down. “Knew there was nothing to worry about,” Eldred told himself. “Belchor’s not fool enough to damage him now, especially when he thinks he’s got a potential buyer.” 

Cursing under his breath at the waste of time, Eldred decided to head back to the camp. Not that he particularly wanted to spend more time in Hercules’s company; the man had made it clear that he was only tolerating Eldred’s presence because he had no other choice. His barely hidden disdain for Eldred and his previous line of work had made for a pretty uncomfortable few days. “If it wasn’t for me, he’d never have found his friend. Think he could muster up a simple thank you? Hah!” It had seemed like the answer to Eldred’s prayers when the King of Corinth had shown up in the prison looking for him. For the chance to avoid the notorious Golgoth prison, Eldred would have done pretty much anything. And getting the King to pony up a pocketful of cash was just the icing on the cake. Not that Eldred had seriously entertained any ideas of returning to Corinth for the rest of the money, oh no. Five hundred denarii in his pocket, Eldred had big plans for that, and wasn’t about to take any chances on Iphicles reneging on his side of the bargain. 

And then there had been the money that Hercules or rather Kester was going to be carrying. Eldred hadn’t been sure how he would manage it, but he figured there had to be a way to separate Hercules from the money before they reached Belchor’s camp. Oh sure, he’d heard all the stories about the amazing strength the guy had, but honestly, who believed all that stuff anyway. At least that was what he’d thought until halfway to their destination when the path had been blocked by a fallen tree which Hercules had removed singlehandedly. After that point, Eldred had started to figure that maybe he might be better off sticking to the terms of the deal. At least until he could think of a better plan.

So he’d bided his time, carefully arranged the introductions between Belchor and Kester, and tried to negotiate as good a deal as possible for Kester’s purchases. By the time the deals had been struck, it was late enough in the day that Eldred knew they’d be staying in camp overnight, and that suited him just fine. After all, even super-strength half-gods had to sleep sometimes, and who knew, maybe some of that special wine they’d brought along might accidentally end up in Hercules’s goblet and he wouldn’t wake up while somebody liberated his money from him.

At least that had been the plan back when Eldred had thought there was any money worth liberating. Eldred couldn’t believe his ears when Hercules had told him exactly how little money he was carrying. “If Belchor finds out, we’re dead” and Eldred knew that even their previous friendship wouldn’t count for much if Belchor discovered he was being cheated. 

“Eldred, old friend.” 

Eldred jumped and whirled around as he heard Belchor’s voice. 

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you,” said Belchor. “Although I must admit to being a little surprised to see that Kester has let you off his leash.”

Eldred spat on the ground, “He ain’t the boss of me,” he growled. 

“Really?” said Belchor, “Forgive me, but it seems to me that he is the one holding all the cards…not to mention the coin.” 

“Well that’s as may be,” said Eldred, “He may have the coin, but I’m the one showing him what to spend it on. He’s got big ideas, but he doesn’t know the first thing about picking the right slaves for the right jobs.”

“Hmm, he certainly seemed to know his own mind, especially when it came to my most recent acquisition. So tell me, Eldred. Just how interested *is* he in making another purchase?” 

“You mean that blond guy in all the chains?” Eldred looked suspiciously at Belchor who nodded. “Well, I’d like to tell you…but it’s been a long day, and my throat is a bit sore from all the bargaining I’ve been doing.” 

“Perhaps some ale will help soothe your throat.” 

Sure enough, thought Eldred as he sat on a fallen tree, the ale supplied by Belchor was indeed very soothing on the throat. “Sounds to me like you can’t wait to get rid of that guy. I’m betting all those chains weren’t just for show?”

“He has indeed caused a certain amount of trouble,” said Belchor, “But I’m sure a man like Kester would have no problem breaking him to his will.” 

“Oh he’d enjoy that, believe me. See, what you should probably know about Kester,” said Eldred, before taking another swig of the ale. “All the other slaves he had me bargain for, they were just business. But that little blond guy, well let’s just say that’s likely to be more for his own personal pleasure, if you get my meaning. And what Kester wants, Kester tends to get.” 

“I think I do,” said Belchor. “So he’ll pay a high price?”

Eldred shrugged, “Maybe, maybe not. Of course he does rely heavily on my input in these matters. Trusts me to steer him right.”

“Perhaps some more ale would help you steer him in the right direction?”

“Perhaps something with a bit more permanent value might work better.” Eldred held Belchor’s gaze until the other man laughed loudly.

“You haven’t lost your touch, Eldred,” said Belchor, clapping him on the back. “It’s a shame to see you waste your skills working for a barbarian like him.” 

“Yeah, well. Times are hard,” said Eldred, draining the last of the ale. “He needed somebody who knew the trade; I needed coin in my pocket.” He set the mug down on the tree. 

“If I make enough from this deal,” said Belchor, “I may think of restructuring my organization. I could use somebody who knows how I operate. Think about that when you are ‘steering’ Kester tonight.”

Eldred thought about it all the way back to the tent. He’d been hoping for an upfront offer of coin from Belchor, coin that he could get his hands on before the upcoming attack by the King’s men, coin that he could take with him when he snuck away in the confusion. “Fat lot of good a job offer will be to me when Belchor’s behind bars,” thought Eldred. “Maybe I should just take what I already have and run before the fighting starts.” 

Unfortunately, it looked like even that might not be an option, thought Eldred as the evening had progressed. It had all been going smoothly; the food had been good and the drink plentiful, although Eldred had sensibly stuck to ale rather than wine. Better yet, it seemed like Hercules had finally started to listen to his advice and was waiting for Belchor to make the first move in the negotiations. And then Hercules had gone and ruined it all by opening his big stupid mouth on the subject. Eldred groaned inwardly when he’d heard him, and groaned even more when Belchor dropped him right in it. When he’d reported back to Hercules that Iolaus wasn’t being harmed, Eldred had carefully avoided mentioning his run-in with Belchor. “I am surrounded by idiots,” he told himself sourly. 

Still, at least Hercules had clearly being paying *some* attention during the earlier negotiations, thought Eldred as he watched the two men strike a deal. Downing the last of his ale, Eldred pushed himself to his feet and headed for the tent to get the wine as instructed. 

“And take your bedroll too.” Eldred stopped in his tracks at the words and glanced back at Hercules, a look of shock on his face. Hercules was too busy counting coins to even look at him. “You can make camp with Belchor. I don’t want to be disturbed before morning!” 

Eldred forced himself to continue on towards the tent, cursing Hercules under his breath. “Oh that’s just perfect that is. You and blondie get all the comforts of home, and I get to sleep out in the open, smack bang in the middle where all the fighting’s gonna be happening.” He’d grabbed his bedroll and the wine and returned to the group, watching as Hercules led Iolaus right past him without a second glance. 

It didn’t escape Eldred’s attention that a few of Belchor’s men seemed to be taking unusual interest in the proceedings, sneaking away from the campfire and taking up position around the side of Kester’s tent to listen in on the muffled shouts coming from it. Belchor too seemed to have noticed, but before he could take any action, an earsplitting scream of pain came from the tent and echoed through the camp. Eldred nearly dropped his mug in shock.

“It looks like Kester is getting his money’s worth,” said Belchor. 

Eldred’s hand was almost shaking as he raised the mug to his lips again. He hadn’t thought that Hercules would be ruthless enough to hurt his friend just to convince Belchor and his men of his intentions. It didn’t exactly bode well for his own chances of escape when all this was over. He hurriedly finished the ale and called for another, wondering if maybe he should take Belchor up on his job offer after all. But Belchor was going to end up in jail in a matter of days if Hercules’s plan succeeded. Eldred put his mug down heavily. “That is of course, assuming that his plan *does* succeed…” 

He watched as Belchor’s men staggered back to the campfire only to be berated angrily by their master. It turned out that Belchor wasn’t so much angry about them listening in, as he was about them getting caught. “The man paid well for his privacy, the least you could have done was kept your mouths shut!” 

Eldred spent the next hour or so trying to figure the best way to deal with his situation. The way he saw it, he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Spill the beans to Belchor and hope that the advance warning would cancel out the original betrayal, or keep his mouth shut and hope not to get killed when the King’s men attacked the camp. And even if he *did* make it back to Corinth in one piece, who was to say that Iphicles would hold up *his* end of the bargain? After all, it wouldn’t exactly do his anti-slavery reputation much good if word got out that he’d paid off a slaver and let him go free. At least with Belchor there was a chance that he’d appreciate the heads-up about the threat in his midst. “Especially when I can point out his enemy’s weak spot,” said Eldred to himself as he finished setting out his bedroll. “Hercules won’t be so high and mighty when his buddy’s bleeding in front of him.” With another mug of ale under his belt to steady his nerves, Eldred went to talk to Belchor. 

\------------------------------

"Let's just say that some people know where their loyalties lie," said Belchor. He had initially been furious with Eldred, ready to slit his throat and leave him behind when they broke camp to escape the attack. But Eldred as always had been a canny negotiator, carefully not revealing the true reason for Hercules infiltrating the camp until after he’d extracted a promise of safe passage. Belchor, knowing that he’d need every advantage possible against a man of Hercules’s strength had been forced to agree. But the revelation that his troublesome captive was best friend and partner of Hercules and somebody he would do anything to keep safe, that was indeed knowledge worth having. Belchor had set a watch on the tent as he tried to round up his men, cursing under his breath as he realized how few of them were still conscious. 

Belchor knew that he himself could easily have been among the sleepers had he not deliberately kept a clear head, knowing that further negotiations were likely. 

By the time Belchor had rousted what men he could, Hercules had already left the tent, alone. Knowing that even with his full complement of men, Hercules would be more than a match for him, Belchor was happy to let him go, setting one of his men on watch outside before entering the tent with the others.  
“I asked you a question,” said Belchor, “Where did Hercules go?”

Even dazed as he had been, Iolaus had retained enough of his senses to instinctively flex his arms in just the right way when Erastos and Leon had tied his wrists, and now he used the slack gained to try and work his hands loose. “Like I said earlier, he went looking for a tree.” Iolaus had been half expecting the punch from Belchor and he went with it, allowing his body to fall onto his back and giving him a few seconds to tug at the ropes unseen. He could feel the cut on his lip starting to bleed again as Erastos and Leon jerked him back onto his knees. 

“Tell me the truth,” said Belchor, pulling out his knife. “Unless you *want* him to return to find your throat slit.”

Iolaus’s heart was racing but he forced himself to shrug with apparent indifference, “Kill me, and there won’t be anything to stop him ripping you limb from limb.” Iolaus saw Belchor nod to his men, and forced himself to go limp and not resist as they grabbed his arms and held him firmly in place. 

Belchor leaned in and grabbed Iolaus by the hair, “If I cut out your eyes,” hissed Belchor, “I can still use you as a hostage.” 

All Iolaus could see was the blade pointing straight at him, “Okay, okay,” he blurted out, “He went…he went to the river…” He took a deep breath, “Hercules brought a battalion from Corinth with him. They’re down-river. Hercules has gone to signal them to join him. Once they’re here, he’ll lead them straight into the camp.” 

Belchor whirled around to face Eldred, “You told me he had barely a dozen men with him!”

Iolaus forced a laugh, “Did you really think that Eldred was going to be trusted with the real plan? Hercules guessed that he’d spill the beans to you as soon as he got a chance. That’s why he had most of Iphicles’s men follow along at a safe distance.” 

“You’re lying!” Eldred would have attacked Iolaus if the guard at the tent entrance hadn’t turned and said “He’s coming back!”

Belchor quickly positioned himself so that Iolaus was between him and the tent entrance. Holding the knife to Iolaus’s throat he said, “Don’t try anything, or once I’ve dealt with Hercules, I’ll start on Keti.”

“Hope you found something to wear buddy,” said Hercules as he entered the tent, “I think it’s time we got moving.”

“No, I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere,” said Belchor. 

"What is the meaning of this?" asked Hercules, "I have paid for the whole night. Is this how you treat all your customers?"

"No," said Belchor. "Only the ones who lie to me and plan to wreck my livelihood. Isn't that right...Hercules?”

Iolaus could see Hercules falter slightly as Belchor continued, “Oh yes, I know all about you and your plan to rescue your little friend here." Iolaus stifled a yelp as Belchor’s grip on his hair tightened, but he kept working away at the ropes on his wrists which were almost loose enough. "We've been having a most informative conversation here, haven't we?" 

“Iolaus? Remember that promise you were forced to make?” Hercules waited until Iolaus made eye contact with him and saw his partner give a barely perceptible nod. “There’s nothing holding you to it anymore.” 

Hercules saw a wolfish grin appear on Iolaus’s face and then with a loud yell, Iolaus flung himself backwards knocking Belchor off balance. Knowing that Iolaus could take care of himself, Hercules took a quick stride towards Belchor’s men, dispatching the first one with a single punch. The second was smarter, staying back out of Hercules’s reach while swinging his sword, and Hercules had to jump backwards to avoid being slashed. The jump took him within reach of Eldred, who was starting to sneak out of the tent, only to be stopped by Hercules grabbing the back of his tunic. “Going somewhere?” said Hercules, holding Eldred in place even as he ducked to avoid another slash from a sword. A swift kick sent the sword flying into the air, and a second kick sent its owner flying as well. A few more punches and kicks and the only people left standing were Hercules and Eldred. One more punch and Eldred went down as well. Hercules wiped his hands on his pants and went to help Iolaus. 

Belchor was flat on his back, Iolaus astride him. “This is for threatening Keti.” Iolaus landed another punch on Belchor’s face which was awash with blood. “This is for taking my medallion.” Iolaus’s knuckles were bleeding and he swayed slightly as he hit Belchor again. “This is for settling for only fifty denarii.” Iolaus was about to punch him again when suddenly he was grabbed from behind and pulled to his feet. Instinctively he turned, hands raised ready to hit whoever it was, only to see Hercules standing in front of him.

“Iolaus!” said Hercules, his hands on Iolaus’s shoulders. “Enough…it’s over.” Hercules didn’t particularly care what happened to Belchor, he just didn’t want Iolaus to do something in the heat of the moment that he’d regret later when he’d calmed down. Over Iolaus’s shoulder he caught a glimpse of movement, a figure crawling, a flash of a knife. 

Without even looking, Iolaus kicked backwards, catching Belchor in the face and sending him crashing to the ground. “Now it’s over,” said Iolaus, shrugging Hercules’s hands off his shoulders and walking away. 

\----------------------------

To be concluded


	6. Saved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fighting is over, the bad guys defeated, but Iolaus and Hercules still have some unfinished business to deal with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note, the warning is for a threat which may or may not be carried out.

Without even looking, Iolaus kicked backwards, catching Belchor in the face and sending him crashing to the ground. “Now it’s over,” said Iolaus, shrugging Hercules’s hands off his shoulders and walking away. 

\-------------------------  
[Chapter 6]  
But it wasn’t completely over.

Hercules made sure that everybody in the tent was securely bound and gagged before doing a quick circuit of the camp. Anybody asleep was tied up, anybody awake was rendered unconscious and *then* tied up. 

He worked alone for the most part. Iolaus had retrieved his medallion from Belchor’s belt pouch and grabbing Eldred’s cloak for warmth had walked out of the tent, saying he was going to find his clothes. Hercules had called after him, telling him to wait until they could go together, but Iolaus had ignored him. Torn between not wanting to let Iolaus out of his sight again, and needing to make sure that Belchor and his men weren’t a threat, Hercules was forced to let Iolaus leave. He had seen from the look in Iolaus’s eyes that anybody posing a threat to his friend would likely end up picking their teeth up off the ground. 

The raid, when it came had been a bit of an anti-climax, thought Hercules as he watched the camp being cleared the next morning. He’d located Iolaus, by then fully dressed and starting to look a bit more like himself, and had raised the signal. Iphicles’s men had ridden into the camp to discover that all they were really needed for was prisoner transport duties. Hercules had been most relieved to find that all the captives he’d freed had made it safely to the camp. As he’d promised himself earlier, he spoke personally to each of them, apologizing profusely for any distress he might have caused them in his persona as Kester. He also arranged for two of Iphicles’s men to accompany them back to their home towns safely. 

“I wish you were coming with us, Iolaus,” Keti said as she gave him a hug. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d probably never have seen my home again.”

“I have to head back to Corinth with Hercules,” said Iolaus. “But the next time I’m passing by, I’ll be sure to call in and visit.” Keti had kissed him on the cheek before setting out with the rest of the group. 

Iolaus had filled a carry sack with provisions from the store wagon before rejoining Hercules who was talking to Nestor, the leader of Iphicles’s men. 

“We’ll be able to take a more direct route back,” said Nestor. “These men will be locked up in Corinth before the week is out. You have my word. Although I must admit, I wish you were accompanying us on the journey back.” 

“We’ll only be a few days behind you,” said Hercules. “We may catch up with you before you hit Corinth. But if not, tell Iphicles we’ll see him soon, ” He thought he heard a sharp intake of breath beside him, but when he glanced at Iolaus, his partner’s face was in a carefully neutral expression. An expression which didn’t change as they watched Nestor lead Belchor, Eldred and the others away, in the chains they’d once used on their captives. 

“I told Nestor that we’d make sure the campsite was cleaned up properly before we followed him,” said Hercules, once the others were out of sight. 

“Fine,” said Iolaus, throwing his bag on the ground. “You just go right ahead and make the decisions and I’ll do as I’m told.” 

“What is wrong with you?” asked Hercules. “I thought you’d appreciate having a day or so to rest up. I can’t imagine Belchor gave you any days off.” 

“Maybe I want to go to Corinth now.”

“Okay, we’ll get our gear and catch up with Nestor. Happy?” 

“YES!” yelled Iolaus, “NO…I don’t know.” His hands were clenched into fists. 

Hercules instinctively took a step back, hands raised in a placatory manner. “Iolaus, what’s going on?” 

“I just…” Iolaus let his hands fall limply to his side. “I just want to have a say in the matter…the last few weeks…every decision has been somebody else’s call. The only choice Belchor gave me was between not causing trouble or…or seeing people I cared about get hurt. Even last night, you made me stay put while you went and freed Keti and the others…”

“That was for your own good,” interrupted Hercules. “You’d been through a lot; I thought it would be safer for you staying put.”

“Yeah, and we saw how well *that* worked out,” said Iolaus sighed heavily, sounding more tired than angry. “Hercules, I’m not a child, I can take care of myself and I can make my own decisions. And they may not be the right decisions, but they’re *my* decisions, *my* choices, and I need to be able to make them for myself.”

“I understand,” said Hercules, “I just honestly thought that it would be good to have some time to ourselves. But you’re right, I shouldn’t have just made that decision for both of us, I should have asked you what *you* wanted to do.” 

“That’s all I want.”

“Look, if you want to, we can grab our stuff and catch up with Nestor. Or, since he’s not expecting us to join him, why don’t we stay here for a day or two, take things easy for a bit. Either way is fine by me, but it’s your call. 

Iolaus sighed heavily, “I guess we might as well stay put.” In truth, he was somewhat relieved that he wasn’t going to have to start out on another long trek immediately. 

Hercules put his arms around Iolaus and pulled him into a hug. “I am sorry, really.” One hand automatically found its way to the small of Iolaus’s back, the thumb tracing a circle at the base of his spine. 

Hercules could feel Iolaus tensing in his arms, but before he could say anything, Iolaus started to struggle. “I…I can’t do this…” Breaking free from Hercules, who was too surprised to stop him, Iolaus pushed himself away, and turning, half stumbled, half ran away from the camp. 

“Iolaus!” By the time Hercules could react, Iolaus was half way across the clearing, headed for the woods. “IOLAUS!” 

Hercules was fast, but Iolaus had had a head start and was almost to the river before Hercules caught up with him. He grabbed Iolaus by the arm, spinning him around and pushing him up against a tree. “Iolaus…” The look of fear on Iolaus’s face made Hercules take a step back. “Iolaus, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I just can’t…I…I…just don’t…don’t touch me…please…” Iolaus’s breathing was ragged and he couldn’t look Hercules in the eye. He slid back against the tree, knees buckling until he was sitting on the roots. 

“Iolaus, please,” said Hercules, crouching down in front of him. “Whatever is going on with you…with us. I want to help you, but I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.” Hercules didn’t really want to push Iolaus if he wasn’t ready, especially after their earlier argument, but he couldn’t just stand by and watch his Iolaus fall apart like this, not if there was anything he could do about it. “If you don’t want to talk, that’s up to you. But you’re my best friend you’re my partner, you mean more to me than anything in the world, and I will do whatever it takes to help you fix this. But you have to help me so that I can help you. Talk to me, buddy, please.” 

“What if this can’t be fixed?” Iolaus’s voice was so low that Hercules could barely hear him. 

“Then whatever it is, we’ll deal with it…together…” Hercules reached out, intending to clasp Iolaus on the shoulder, only to have him shy away from the touch. “Please Iolaus.” 

“Hercules…” Iolaus swallowed hard before continuing, “I…I’ve always known that you were stronger than me. I’ve always known that if you turned your strength against me that there’d be nothing I could do to defend myself…I just never realized how it would feel to be in that position. But when I was being dragged towards the tent…when I was there, pinned to the ground…knowing that there was nothing I could do to stop it. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life. And I know it was all part of the act, but it hit me, that if you ever wanted to, you could break me in a heartbeat…and I just…I just don’t know what I’d do to stop you if you ever were truly angry with me.” He wiped his hand across his eyes.

“Iolaus, all you’d have to do is *tell* me to stop and I would,” said Hercules, shocked at what his friend was saying, “You know that I would never hurt you…you know that I would never raise a hand to you in anger.”

“I know that,” said Iolaus, “I know that *you* would never do it…but Kester would, Kester *did*…and he would have done more, and right now when I look at you, all I can see is *him* and what he was going to do to me…and when you touched me…like you did then…like *he* did…Hercules, I don’t want to feel this way, I don’t want to feel his hands when you touch me, I don’t want to see him when I look at you…but I don’t know how to stop seeing him…”

“Then let’s make him disappear.” Hercules stood and held out his hand to Iolaus, who looked at it as if was a snake, before reluctantly taking it and allowing Hercules to pull him to his feet. “We can do this, Iolaus. Together.” 

\----------------------------------

Iolaus carefully struck the stones together above the small pile of kindling that he’d gathered. 

Hercules had asked him to build a fire while he went back to the campsite to get their things. The familiar task, one that Iolaus had performed more times than he could remember, went some way towards settling his nerves, but his hands were still shaking as he placed some twigs over the small flame. He’d thought that he’d gotten past the strain of his ordeal of the previous night. He’d thought that he’d managed to lock away the fear and dread that he’d felt when Kester had dragged him through the tent and thrown him to the ground. But when Hercules had hugged him after their argument, all Iolaus had been conscious of was the smell of Kester’s outfit that Hercules had still been wearing. Iolaus had managed to fight down the initial panic, but then he’d felt that touch on his back, and all of a sudden he was back in Belchor’s camp, hands chained, being carried to the tent. 

He’d panicked, pure and simple, thought Iolaus. He’d panicked and run away like a coward, and the only reason he wasn’t still running now was because he had promised Hercules that he’d stay there and wait for him. 

Iolaus was about to place more fuel on the flames when he heard footsteps approach. Afraid to look up for fear of who he’d see, Iolaus’s hand tightened convulsively around the stick. It wasn’t until he heard Hercules’s voice that Iolaus was able to let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Hercules sat down, carefully picking his seat to be close enough to reach out to Iolaus, but not close enough to touch. He held out a blade to Iolaus and said, “Will you help me get rid of Kester?”

Iolaus saw the knife being held out to him and hesitated to take it, fearful of what he might do if he saw Kester in front of him. Forcing himself to look up, he saw Hercules’s smile shine through Kester’s beard. 

“We can do this, Iolaus,” said Hercules. He saw Iolaus swallow hard, before taking the knife. 

It was as well, thought Iolaus that he didn’t have to make his living as a barber. He’d used the knife to cut Hercules’s hair to its more normal length, sawing through the matted tangles and trying not to pull at it too much. That was the easy part though; at least he didn’t have to look Hercules in the face while doing it. He’d then knelt in front of Hercules, and cut away most of Kester’s beard, avoiding eye contact while he did so. Finally Iolaus cleaned the blade again and leaned in closer to Hercules to shave him. Iolaus’s hand was shaking as he raised it to Hercules’s neck and started to scrape away the stubble. “I…I don’t know if I can do this,” said Iolaus, hesitantly. He forced himself to look into Hercules’s eyes. “Not without hurting you.” 

“You won’t hurt me,” said Hercules. “I know you.”

Iolaus steeled himself once more and slowly, carefully, managed to remove most of the stubble. When he was finished, he reached out with his free hand, caressing Hercules’s cheek, running his thumb over the skin. “Welcome back, Hercules,” he said softly. “It’s good to see you.” He leaned forward brushing his lips against Hercules’s but then pulled back, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “I don’t suppose you brought any soap?”

Hercules had indeed brought soap, and soon the two were wading into the river. 

Once Hercules had washed the scent of Kester away for good, Iolaus took a comb and tried to untangle the unruly mane of hair. 

“Ouch,” said Hercules as Iolaus tackled a particularly difficult knot. “Be careful!”

“I’m barely pulling it,” said Iolaus. “You are being such a baby!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!” Iolaus yanked at a lock of hair, making Hercules yelp. Hercules retaliated by scooping up a handful of water and throwing it in Iolaus’s face. Iolaus promptly ducked under the water, swimming around and coming up in front of Hercules to splash him in the face before backstroking away to an imagined safe distance. He’d reckoned without Hercules’s competitive nature – at least when it came to water fights – and the game was on. 

Hercules finally managed to grab Iolaus as he tried to swim past him to the shallows. Iolaus was laughing as Hercules lifted him out of the water. “You win!” he gasped as he caught his breath. 

“You’d better believe it!” Hercules tucked Iolaus under one arm and started to walk towards the river bank. Iolaus kept wriggling and twisting, and Hercules was afraid he was going to lose his grip. “Stay still, or else!” Hercules raised his free hand, ready to smack Iolaus on the ass, and then he froze. 

Iolaus was puzzled by Hercules’s lack of movement and twisted around until he could see his face. “Hercules? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…nothing’s wrong…” Hercules set Iolaus down and stumbled towards the river bank. Pulling himself out, he sat on the edge and buried his head in his hands. He heard splashing, and a few seconds later, Iolaus scrambled out of the water to join him. 

“What were you saying about only being able to help me if I talked to you?” said Iolaus. “Well that goes both ways. What just happened out there?”

“I was going to smack you,” said Hercules. “I was going to smack you on the ass for being such a brat.”

“So?” said Iolaus, “I *was* being a brat.” 

“Don’t you get it? All I was saying earlier about not hurting you, and then there I am, ready to hit you…just like Kester did.”

“Hercules,” Iolaus interrupted, “I’m not that fragile. When Kester hit me like that, it wasn’t the pain that hurt me, it was the fear. You said that all I’d have to do to stop you was to tell you to stop. And I trust you enough to believe that you always will. But you have to trust me enough to know that I’ll call stop when I need to.” Iolaus leaned against him, letting his head fall against Hercules’s shoulder. “I guess we’ve both been pretty messed up by this.” He sighed heavily. “So many times in the past few weeks, I just wished that I’d gone straight to Corinth with you.” 

“But then Belchor would still be on the loose with all his captives,” said Hercules, wrapping his arm around Iolaus’s shoulders. “I should have stayed with *you*. Then as soon as we’d seen what Belchor was up to, we could have taken him down, freed the captives and gone fishing like you’d wanted.”

Iolaus shook his head, “The only reason I was on that road, on that day was because I was heading to Corinth to join you. If you’d been with me, we could have been anywhere in the province, and Keti and her friends would still be prisoners.”

“A part of me would rather this had all never happened,” admitted Hercules. “Even if meant not capturing Belchor.”

“You and me both!” Iolaus snuggled up against Hercules. “Do me a favor though. If Fortune shows up and offers to wipe my memories, both our memories of all this, promise you won’t say yes.”

“You have my word,” said Hercules, “There’s no telling how many years of our lives we might lose!”

“That’s not it,” said Iolaus, “It’s not that…it’s just that if I forgot the bad stuff that happened, then I’d also forget that you did everything in your power to save me.” Iolaus twisted around so that his head was resting against Hercules’s chest. “And that type of memory is always worth keeping.”

\-----------------------------------

It wasn’t that easy of course. Like with any infection, even once the wound had been lanced, and the poison drained, the raw edges still took time to heal. 

Iolaus slept fitfully that first night, drifting in and out of restless dreams, before jerking awake so violently that he woke Hercules as well. He didn’t say much about the nightmares, simply grumbling good naturedly about how Belchor and his men were still interrupting his sleep. “At least this time I have a decent pillow,” he’d added, cuddling up to Hercules as he’d closed his eyes again.

But the days passed, and as the bruises to Iolaus’s body healed, so too did the bruises to his soul. 

There was the occasional setback. Walking through a wooded area one day, a shadow had fallen across Hercules’s face at just the right angle to make it look like he had a long beard. Iolaus had only seen it for a second, but it had been enough to make him stop in his tracks, grabbing onto a nearby tree trunk to steady himself before continuing on. Hercules had seen the hesitation and the recovery and not knowing the exact reason for it had simply wrapped his arm around Iolaus’s shoulders in a silent gesture of comfort. 

But as the days passed, Iolaus’s spirits grew brighter and his sleep less troubled. Hercules too felt his guilt over the mission fade as Iolaus showed in both word and actions that no grudges were held. Both men were thankful for the opportunity to spend some uninterrupted time together, having chosen a less well travelled path to Corinth in the hopes that no threats or danger would spoil the solitude. 

The peace and quiet didn’t last of course and they were still a few days from the city when they heard familiar sounds of fighting and screaming.

Rounding the corner at a run, they saw a group of thugs surrounding what looked to be a merchant and his wagon. 

“Looks like it’s business as usual, partner,” said Hercules with a smile as he started running towards the fight.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way!” said Iolaus, following Hercules into the fray. 

\------------------------------  
The end


End file.
